


Does His Love Make Your Head Spin?

by cosmicpoet



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Non-Despair (Dangan Ronpa), Angst, Drugs, Eventual Relationships, F/F, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Office AU, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-18
Updated: 2019-01-03
Packaged: 2019-02-03 21:35:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 22
Words: 77,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12756663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cosmicpoet/pseuds/cosmicpoet
Summary: Maki Harukawa is indifferent to a lot of things. She just wants to live a relatively calm, alone life; she doesn't even mind her office job,if people keep to themselves and stop bothering her. Which they don't. But maybe, that's exactly what she needs. Because, for so long, there's been something missing from her life, and she can't keep tricking herself into thinking that she'll find genuine happiness at the bottom of a bottle or the end of a pack of Marlboros.





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maki hates office parties. She just wants to go home, but she finds herself doing Shuichi a favour and taking home a very drunk coworker.

It’s something past midnight on a Friday night in mid-December when Maki Harukawa realises two things. One; she _hates_ Christmas. Two; she _needs_ to quit her job. Office parties are the exact opposite of how she’d like to be spending her time, but if standing on the edge of a sticky dance floor with a glass of water in her hand is the only way to get her boss off her back, she’ll reluctantly oblige. It’s not that she has any specific aversion to Christmas, it’s just that there’s only so much goddamn tinsel she can take, especially when the aforementioned tinsel is more often than not crudely draped around the heads of her drunk coworkers. 

She wonders if she would be having a better time if she was also drunk, but her car is outside and she doesn’t fancy trying any of the mystery Christmas punch that she’s almost certain has been spiked. Still, there’s a certain calmness that she finds within her apathy, like watching everyone sloppily dance to Mariah Carey reminds her that she’s satisfied with not being one of them. And whenever the part of her that almost yearns to be normal rears its head, she can easily push it aside by looking too long into the disco lights hanging from the ceiling.

Thinking back to her teenage years, she never imagined that she’d be working a dead end office job halfway into her twenties. Like everyone else on the planet, she had imagined that she was destined for greater things, but she feels sorry for the people in the room who are still clinging onto that hope. She gave up on that a few years ago, and has resigned herself to a life of monotony, as long as it continuously means a life of relative comfort. Knowing that she’s easily satisfied, she’s content with her second hand car and one bedroom apartment, and her fully stocked alcohol shelf back there.

She can’t remember the last time she actually spoke, but she’s sure that it must have been hours ago. Truthfully, she probably could have gone home once she had shown her face to her boss – as if to prove a point – but it seemed as though it would make her stand out in the office on Monday, and Maki is perfectly fine with her simple life of blending in. This is the explanation she offers herself, and eventually settles on, as to why she’s still in a rented out hall in the early hours of a new day.

There are a lot of things she’s thinking of: her double bed, her half empty bottle of whiskey on her shelf, the packet of cigarettes in her pocket. Whilst she wants to act upon all of these impulses, she settles on the last one, excusing herself for some fresh air and, honestly, a break from the irritating reality of being sober around drunk people.

As she tries to light up outside, she notices a few of her coworkers standing metres away from her. The last thing she wants to do is talk, but her lighter won’t spark properly and she feels like she could kill someone if she doesn’t have a cigarette soon. She approaches the person she knows will be the easiest to talk to, and eventually get away from.

“Rantaro,” she says dully, “got a light?”

“Yeah, hang on.”

He reaches in his pocket and pulls out various items – a half empty bag of weed, a couple of drink receipts, and finally, a lighter.

“Thanks.”

They stand in silence for a few moments, hearing the muffled beat of old Christmas songs through the doors to the smoking area. Maki finds herself almost content; standing outside must be doing her some good. And she’s actually enjoying the relative peace and quiet, as she thinks of walking around the outside to her car so that she can subtly leave without having to say goodbye to people she can’t even be bothered to smile at in the office on a regular day.

Just as she’s about to start walking, the doors slam open and bang against the walls. She sees Shuichi – a small-ish, shy man whom she doesn’t particularly dislike, which is saying a lot considering her opinion of the general consensus of her office – with his arm holding up another man. She recognises his face, but can’t be bothered to even try and recall his name.

“Maki,” Shuichi approaches her, and she mentally makes a note to be less friendly to him on Monday. The last thing she needs is to be roped into whatever fucked up situation is going on here. “I need a hand.”

She makes the mistake of looking up and meeting Shuichi’s eyes, even from beneath his hat, and now she has no reasonable way of pretending that she didn’t hear him. 

“You remember Kaito, right?”

“No,” she replies.

“O-Oh. Well, uh, he’s kinda drunk.”

“I see.”

“And I’m having a hard time, y’know, carrying him?”

“I see.”

“And I’m also a little bit drunk. Can you call a taxi and – and maybe lift him up a bit so my shoulders don’t kill me in the morning?”

Maki’s mouth responds before her brain can rifle through her filing cabinet of excuses. She’s so used to taking the easy way out of conversations, and the easy way is usually just to agree and then walk away, so she finds herself saying yes before realising the implications of her statement.

“Thanks Maki!”

Shuichi lifts up Kaito’s left arm and Maki begrudgingly helps him stand. Kaito, meanwhile, seems to have no comprehension of his surroundings, let alone the situation. 

“S-So,” Shuichi stutters, “taxi?”

 _“Oh, fuck it,”_ Maki thinks, _“I’m already in this situation. I may as well go along with it.”_

“Actually, I’m sober. And I was gonna take off soon anyway, so I can just drive him home. If he’s alert enough to give me his address, that is.”

“Oh, I actually have his address.”

Shuichi gives Maki Kaito’s address, and helps her carry him to her car. She almost has a moment of embarrassment about the mess on her car floor, but then she hears Kaito hiccup and thinks that he’s not in any fit state to complain. Booting up her Sat Nav, she realises that Kaito’s apartment is miles away on the opposite side of town to hers, but she’s already got herself up to her neck in this mess of circumstances, so she can do nothing but continue.

She has to fasten Kaito’s seatbelt herself, rolling her eyes as she sees his eyelids begin to close. Conversation has never been her strong point, so she’s quite glad of his drunken silence for the first ten minutes of the journey. However, after this, Kaito seems to perk up a bit, and he lifts his head to turn to her.

“You’re the cute girl from the office, right?”

“You’re the drunk asshole from the office party, right?”

Kaito crosses his hands over his chest in an overdramatic fashion, gasping in mock-horror as he says, “You wound me!” 

Maki purses her lips to prevent a smile; smiling would be an admission of failure.

“What’s your name?”

“Maki,” she replies – a simple answer to a simple question from a simple person.

“Aw, nice! Maki – like Maki rolls! That’s what I’m gonna call you. Maki Roll. It suits you!”

“No it doesn’t.”

“No need to be moody, Maki Roll. I thought taxi drivers were supposed to be nice?”

“If I’m a taxi driver, you know that means you have to pay me.” 

“Oh damn. I’ll buy you a drink at the next office party!”

“That’s next Christmas, idiot.”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Besides, I’m only joking. You live close to my apartment, so it’s not even out of my way,” Maki is completely taken aback by the fact that she just lied to make someone – a man she’s spoken probably less than one hundred words to – feel better.

As she pulls up outside Kaito’s apartment block, she reaches over him to open the door – it seems like too much of a complicated task for him to complete himself. But she doesn’t drive off; she waits, for some unknown reason, fiddling with the radio until she sees him close the door to the block of flats behind him.

 _“I was just trying to find a good song for the drive home,”_ she tells herself.

When she arrives back at her apartment, it’s approaching three in the morning. She’s normally awake at this hour, but she feels drained from being around people for what feels like forever, so she collapses onto her bed and only has the energy to take off her bra before falling straight asleep.

* * *

 

Despite getting to bed late, she wakes early, getting up with the sunrise. She has grown to become fond of this part of her daily routine, in which she sits on her balcony in her dressing gown with a cigarette and a cup of black coffee. Saturdays are technically a day off work, but Maki hates simply doing _nothing._ She’s thinking of possibly going into town to do a small grocery shop when she checks the calendar on her phone and realises the date. 

 _“20 th December,” _she thinks, _“I should visit Himiko.”_

Himiko’s house isn’t too far from Maki’s apartment, a quaint little bungalow that she shares with two of her friends; Angie and Gonta. They live a seemingly idyllic life, with a garden twice the size of the house. Plants grow freely everywhere – Angie can’t bear to cut down weeds – and there’s a small shed at the end of the grass, painted bright yellow with little bugs drawn all over it. More often than not, Gonta can be found in here, examining the bugs that take shelter in the wet damp of the floorboards, listening to the sound of Angie singing as she gardens. But December isn’t a good month for Himiko, and Maki knows that she’ll be in her room, as she probably has been for at least the past two days.

Since the incident, Maki has had a spare key to this house. Sometimes, when Angie and Gonta are out somewhere, Himiko will text Maki, but it’ll be too overwhelming for her to even get out of bed and open the door. After knowing Himiko for over five years, Maki knows that she can just walk into the house as if it were her own. 

This is exactly what she does, treading the hallway right down to Himiko’s room, softly, but loud enough so that Himiko can hear her approach. She knocks on the door three times.

“Himiko,” she says, “you in there?”

Usually cold and distant, Maki undergoes a shift in tone whenever she’s around Himiko. This past year has been hard, and, contrary to what some people believe, she does have a heart that goes out to her friend.

“Mmm,” Himiko’s muffled voice comes from inside; this is her way of telling Maki to come in.

Maki opens the door, and the bright sunlight optimism of the house is sucked into the black hole of the room. The curtains are drawn, the bed unmade, and Himiko sits motionless in the middle of the mess. Even in the darkness, Maki can see the faint tracks of distant ghost-tears on Himiko’s cheeks. They both know that December is a bad month. 

“How you holding up?”

Himiko doesn’t respond. Maki isn’t discouraged or offended – this is the first December since the incident, and it’s jarring to see Himiko’s room with a lack of Christmas lights or tinsel. She can’t empathise, she’s never been in Himiko’s situation, but it’s impossible not to _sympathise,_ not when she has seen Himiko at her brightest and she is now confronted with the unrecognisable, half-alive phantom of her best friend.

“I know you don’t wanna talk, so I’m not gonna bring it up until you want me to. Or, y’know, if you want me to. But I’m gonna ask you some simple, unrelated questions, okay?”

“Mm.”

“Have you eaten today?”

Himiko shakes her head.

“Have you eaten in the past three days?”

Himiko shakes her head again.

“Have you had anything to drink in the past three days?”

The same response.

“Have you slept in the past three days?”

“A lot.”

“Right. I’m going to make you some toast, it’s easy on your stomach and you need something or you’re gonna feel worse. Do you think you can eat that?”

Himiko nods.

“Do you want to come to the kitchen, or do you want to be alone for the next five minutes?”

In response, Himiko grabs onto Maki’s arm. Although she’s been isolated for over 24 hours, the presence of someone else, Maki thinks, must have reminded Himiko of something she doesn’t want to remember losing.

They walk slowly to the kitchen together, linking arms. As Maki puts bread in the toaster and gets a bottle of water out of the fridge, Himiko slumps down onto one of the chairs by the breakfast bar, laying her head onto her crossed arms and sobbing. Maki opens the water and places it next to Himiko, encouraging her to take at least a few sips.

When the toast is ready, they make their way back to Himiko’s room. Maki instinctively goes to open the curtains, then looks back at Himiko to get confirmation of whether that’s okay with her. Himiko gently nods, and Maki lets some light into the room. She begins to tidy the clothes and pillows all over the floor, letting Himiko eat in silence until she’s ready to talk. 

“Maki,” Himiko says, so quietly it could have been nothing more than a whisper of a breeze from the now open window, “d’you think she can see me now?”

Maki freezes. She’s never been good with spiritual advice. She doesn’t believe in God, or Heaven, or Hell. She knows that she’s alive right now and she couldn’t give a damn what comes after. But she’s a good liar.

“Of course,” she says, “and she’s probably proud of you for finishing off that piece of toast.”

“She used to eat, like, a _lot.”_

“Remember that time in the restaurant,” Maki says, “when –”

“When we all ordered tiny meals and she got three huge ones!”

Himiko laughs, and then abruptly stops. “Do you think she hates me for laughing today?”

“Are you kidding? She’s probably jumping for joy just to see you smile.”

Maki picks up a photo on the desk. The frame is covered in dust, so she wipes it off so the photo can be seen clearly. It’s Himiko and Tenko, two years ago, smiling so wide Maki can almost feel her own cheeks begin to hurt. She passes it to Himiko, who holds it to her chest like she’s imagining that Tenko is there right now.

“I really miss her, Maki.”

“I know.”

“It should have been me.”

“No, Himiko, don’t say that. You can’t change the past, and wishing that you could will only destroy you. Remember how Tenko would want you to live, yeah?”

“But I was the one driving, and if only I’d seen the car in time, and –”

“It was snowing, and you were going five miles under the speed limit, remember? The police even confirmed that the other guy was driving drunk.”

“But Tenko didn’t deserve to die.”

“I know. But that doesn’t mean that you _do_ deserve to die. You’ve just gotta, how do I put this, live life like you’re living for the two of you now, y’know?”

They sit in silence for hours. At some point, Himiko falls asleep on Maki’s shoulder, and Maki gently repositions her into the middle of the bed, draping the duvet over her and adjusting the pillows. She finishes tidying the room, and wipes off a little of the dust that has accumulated into a thick layer on all of the surfaces. Closing the window, she shuts the curtains slightly so that Himiko can sleep undisturbed, but leaves them open to a degree in order to let a little natural light filter in. Before she leaves, she sticks a post-it note on the counter addressed to Angie and Gonta, saying that she’s visited and that Himiko has eaten something today.

Then she walks away, swiftly, as always.

* * *

 

On her way home, she parks her car in town and walks to the market that sets up on weekends. It’s always nicer to pick up fresh food, and she’s grown to care, in a strange little way, for the people who run the stalls. Since she arrives near closing time, the owners of certain stalls give her some extra free gifts along with her purchases, and she’s thankful for the kindness of not-quite-strangers as she carries her bags back to her parking space.

Back in her apartment, she heats up the oven and makes preparations for a winter squash soup. Making a mental note to put some in a tub and take it to Himiko tomorrow, she finishes cooking after an hour and sits on her balcony with a bowl of soup and a glass of whiskey. Just as she watches the sun rise, she watches it set also, warming herself with good food and, afterwards, as many cigarettes as she wants.

Her mind wanders as the sky turns from white-grey to faint pink, and then makes its way slowly, softly, towards dark blue. She thinks of Himiko, and of how much she has changed in this past year. Obviously, that was to be expected, but it turns her insides cold to think of how the parts of Himiko have been stripped away, chopped and dissolved, until she’s a shell of who she was before. Maki remembers having homemade Christmas dinner with Tenko, Himiko, Angie, and Gonta last year, and it brings bile to her throat to think of how Himiko will probably sleep her way through Christmas Day without even realising it. Christmas was always Tenko’s favourite holiday, after all.

 _“People put too much emphasis on holidays and relationships,”_ she thinks. It’s a cold opinion, but she doesn’t blame herself for thinking this way – she’s seen too much of Himiko’s tragedy to believe otherwise. _“I’ll never fall in love.”_


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maki finds that a regular day at the office isn't exactly a normal regular day at the office. But she's not getting attached, she swears.

Most people hate Mondays, so naturally, Maki loves them. They don’t have the annoying energy of Fridays, or the midweek stress of Wednesdays, they’re just, well, _Mondays._ And Mondays are the days wherein everyone is usually hungover, tired, and not in the mood for talking – a perfect trio for being left alone. She usually arrives early on a Monday, not only to beat the traffic, but also to make herself a cup of coffee before the kitchen becomes overwhelmed with useless conversation and the irritating heat of people in her personal space.

But then there’s an accident on the roads. Not hers, not anyone she knows – _“not Tenko,”_ she thinks, and then dismisses the thought – but still, it’s enough to delay her for a good half hour. When she walks into the office, it’s five minutes to nine, and she hates being so close to the starting time that she may as well be late.

Maki knows that she needs coffee at her desk before she can be even mildly productive. Hoping to whatever little luck she has the kitchen isn’t full, she drops her bag off in her cubicle and walks towards the little door leading off the room into the kitchen. Momentarily, she stops outside, hearing voices inside. One, she knows, belongs to Shuichi – his distinct stutter and quiet mumble feels familiar to her. She talks to him often, mostly for five minutes at a time in the smoking area, but then she remembers the fiasco of Friday night and how he essentially roped her into taking a very drunk Kaito home. And then there’s the other voice that she hears, familiar, yet distant, it takes her a moment to place it – this is the first time she’s really heard this voice whilst the speaker has been sober. So, it has to be Kaito.

Internally debating for a moment over coming back later, Maki tells herself that she has just as much of a right to be in the kitchen as they do, and why does she feel so nervous walking in alone? But now isn’t the time to think of that, and she walks inside.

“Yo, Maki Roll! Mornin’,” Kaito says. She dips her head and utters a small greeting, trying to be very much less-than-subtle about having no intention of starting a conversation.

“Morning, Maki,” Shuichi says, quieter than Kaito.

Maki wonders how it’s possible for Kaito to have so much energy on a Monday morning, let alone the Monday morning after he drank enough alcohol to get a small city suitably tipsy. Still, she realises that she isn’t quite as annoyed as she’d anticipated being.

Dismissing that thought quickly, she walks to the kettle and sets it to boil. She reaches into the cupboard, right to the back, where she hides her expensive coffee from everyone else. When she pulls it out, she finds that the entire thing has been used up, and she definitely remembers leaving at least enough for two more cups in there. Realistically, it’s not something to get angry over, but given the fact that her morning has already been disrupted once, she grits her teeth and throws the jar in the bin. It lands a little louder than she expected, and Kaito jumps at the noise.

“What’s that about, Maki Roll?”

“Nothing. Out of coffee. Can’t have a damn thing to myself in this place.”

Then she turns on her heel and walks away.

* * *

 

Afternoon comes, and Maki hasn’t been productive at all. She’s seething from the injustice of having her coffee stolen, and annoyed at Kaito for being so goddamn cheery, and something else – something just feels _off._ Every time she thinks that hours must have passed already, she checks the clock and sees that it’s been mere minutes since she last looked at the time. Normally, she can compartmentalise herself at work, and just get whatever she needs to do finished on time, but today seems different. There’s been some kind of shift in her life, and her mind is struggling to keep up with this unknown feeling of change.

 _“Perhaps a cigarette will sort me out,”_ she thinks. She deserves one.

Outside, the weather isn’t bad, but it’s not good either, and that’s reason enough for Maki to be pissed off. Some days are just _like that,_ where anything that hangs on the border between good and bad automatically becomes the most terrible annoyance in the world. Sure, leaning towards the glass-half-empty mentality isn’t good, but it’ll do when she really just wants to throw the damn glass, water and all, at the wall. At least she’s fairly alone in the smoking shelter, just her, a flimsy open-ended shed, and a bench with far too much ash on it.

Normally, she wouldn’t sit down for fear of dirtying her trousers, but today of all days, she really doesn’t give a shit, so she lazily attempts to brush off the worst of the dirt on the bench, and then she sits down. She only has a moment of peace between lighting up and taking her first drag, when she’s interrupted by a group of voices growing louder and louder.

 _“Not fucking now,”_ she thinks.

Emerging into her field of vision is a group of people, talking amongst themselves as they walk into the smoking shelter. She recognises them all; Rantaro, Shuichi, Kaito, and Kokichi. Perhaps she could have accepted it, were it just the former three, but there’s something about Kokichi that just clashes with every fundamental part of her. Still, she isn’t exactly the authority on who can take smoke breaks, so there’s no reasonable way for her to tell them to fuck off and have any power behind her statement.

“What’s up, Maki?” Rantaro says casually. He knows she doesn’t talk much, but he always tests the waters with a quick hello. She can’t hate him; he’s just too nice and calm for her to be justified in doing so. And besides, she’d be lying if she said that he hasn’t given her a few drags of his spliff on particularly stressful days.

“Eh, work,” she replies.

“Never thought I’d hear you say that! You _love_ your job, right Maki?” Kokichi chimes in, using his usual singsong voice.

“Oh piss off Kokichi, you know I hate it here as much as the rest of you.”

“I don’t know man,” Kaito says, “I kinda like it. It’s pretty chill.”

“I, uh, it’s not great, but it pays the bills,” Shuichi says.

Maki watches as Kaito, Shuichi, and Rantaro all light up their cigarettes. Kokichi, on the other hand, pulls out an obnoxiously large e-cigarette. She knows he has every intention of blowing some obscene bubblegum flavoured smoke in her face, and she hates him for his annoying predictability.

There’s silence for a few moments as they all relax for a minute away from their desks. But Maki thinks that it must be impossible for Kaito to ever truly be silent, and she’s proven right.

“So what’s the deal with the coffee thing then?”

“I don’t know,” she tells him, “someone used the last of my coffee. Apparently writing ‘Maki’ in sharpie doesn’t deter some assholes in this place.”

“You have any idea who it was?”

“Oh,” she says, seeing Kokichi’s scarily wide grin aimed right at her, “I have a few ideas.”

“You buy the fancy shit from Starbucks don’t you?”

“Yeah.”

They’ve hit a lull in the conversation, and Maki has no intention of putting effort in to continue it. She’ll talk to people, but she won’t overdo it and force conversation where there is none. Kaito, on the other hand, apparently excels at that.

“There’s two for one drinks on at that new bar in town tonight, and a few of us are going. You’re welcome to join, y’know, if you fancy it?”

“You’re drinking _more_ after Friday?”

“I mean, the hangover on Saturday was a bitch, but I’m over it! Onwards and upwards!”

“That’s not…” Maki trails off. She somehow already knows that it would be pointless trying to dissuade Kaito.

“So you in?”

“Are you asking me genuinely, or do you just want someone to drive your drunk ass home?”

“Genuinely! I wanna get to know the real Maki, behind all this ‘I don’t give a fuck’ exterior.”

Kaito waves his hands at her as if to gesture that her personality is merely a front for an emotional woman hiding inside. If she weren’t so composed, Maki would have laughed in his face.  
  
“Probably not.”

“Eh, your loss. It’s an open invitation though, so if you do wanna come, just turn up! I believe I owe you a drink, after all.”

Maki finishes her cigarette and, without waiting for the others, starts to walk inside. She hears footsteps behind her, and doesn’t even need to turn around to know that it’s Kaito.

“What now?”

“Maki Roll,” he fake pouts, “I wanna know what’s going on with you.”

“Huh?”

“Like, you seem really, I don’t know, annoyed. Distant. And I wanna know if something’s wrong.”

“You’ve met me like, twice.”

“Three times, counting the kitchen this morning and just now.”

“And the time you were drunk in my car.”

“Yeah, and that. Anyway, what’s got you down?”

“Lack of coffee. Don’t read into it.”

“Got it. See, I’m learning more about you every day! Now I know that you need coffee to function. Nice one – this time next year we’ll be, like, soulmates!”

For some reason, Maki doesn’t have the heart to say, _“I doubt that”,_ and she just walks back to her cubicle instead.

An hour later, she’s finally got into her work. It’s menial, boring, useless typing, but at least it’s easy; that means she can zone out whilst doing it and think of other things. And yet, her mind keeps wandering back to Kaito, and how well he can read her despite being, on the outside at least, a complete idiot. She pushes those thoughts away as quickly as they come – no matter how frequently her mind finds itself back at them – and tries to focus on anything else. She’s thinking of what she’ll cook for dinner, what crap will be on TV tonight, and –

“Maki!”

She looks up, and there he is, snapping her out of her train of thought. Kaito.

“Kaito,” she replies.

“I got you something.”

He holds out his hands. In one of them, there’s a takeaway Starbucks cup, in the other, there’s a jar of her favourite coffee. On the side of the cup, there’s a little post-it note, which she doesn’t read quite yet because Kaito is still talking.

“Y’know, just to say thank you for the other night. And sorry, in case I was a drunk asshole.”

“Eh, I’ve dealt with worse drunk assholes,” she replies.

“Nice! Anyway,” he grins at her, and she forces herself not to smile back, although she can’t control the fact that her lips _do_ turn upwards a little, “I was at Starbucks getting myself a peppermint mocha frappuccino blended coffee and I thought ‘hey, Maki Roll ran out of coffee this morning and I kinda owe her one’, so here!”

“Thanks, Kaito,” she says, and this time she does smile, “although what the ever-loving fuck did you order for yourself?”

“A peppermint mocha frappuccino blended coffee with an extra shot of peppermint!”

“You know that has enough sugar to, like, kill you?”

“Fuck it, it’s nice. You should try it sometime!”

“I’ll pass. Anyway, thanks.”  
  
“No problem, Maki Roll!”

Kaito walks off, and Maki takes a sip of the coffee he brought her. It’s perfect, just how she likes it, and she smiles knowing that nobody will see her. Peeling off the post-it note, she reads what Kaito wrote.

_“Thanks for taking me home on Friday! I owe you one, so hope you like the coffee!”_

Underneath, there’s a badly drawn rocket surrounded by a few stars, and a number, which she presumes to be his. She contemplates throwing the note away, but something within her tells her that it’s harmless to keep it, and besides, Kaito is just too goddamn nice; she’d feel guilty just throwing it away, even if his handwriting isn’t the best. She’s quite possibly the only person in the office with no photos decorating her cubicle, so she finds a pin in one of her drawers and pins the little post-it note above her computer. But it doesn’t mean anything to her, she tells herself. Just a piece of yellow paper from a borderline acquaintance.

* * *

 

When she gets home, Maki retreats into automatic mode. She puts her dinner in the oven, tidies her living room, and eats quietly alone. She loves eating alone, but for the first time in a long time, she’s uncomfortable in her silence. Turning on the TV, she thinks that artificial voices will do.

And then, before she knows it, she’s sat in front of her mirror putting on makeup and straightening her hair. _“Why? I have nowhere to be,”_ she thinks, but this thought doesn’t stop her from finishing anyway. And now that she’s all dressed up, she reasons that she may as well go somewhere, and Kaito did say that his invitation to the pub was an open one. So, she calls a taxi, and arrives outside the bar a little after eight.

When she enters, it’s hard not to immediately spot Kaito and his friends. He’s laughing so loudly that she assumes the entire pub must be in on his joke, but it doesn’t annoy her like she anticipated it would. Walking over to his table, she makes eye contact with Shuichi, who looks visibly surprised to see her outside of work.

“Hey,” she says, casually.

Kaito turns around in shock, and breaks out into the biggest smile when he sees her. He pulls an empty chair from the vacant table next to them, seating it right next to his own.

“Hey, Maki Roll! It’s so awesome to see you! Here, sit down.”

She does so, just as Kaito rises.

“I’m heading to the bar, what do you want?”

“Oh, thanks. Whiskey and diet coke, please.”

“Coming right up!”

He flashes her another winning smile and pulls her by the arm towards the bar. She doesn’t protest – if she weren’t so clever, she’d probably think that she enjoyed spending time alone with him, but she knows that rationally, she doesn’t get attached to people. Still, if there are free drinks going, she’d be stupid not to take him up on his offer.

He orders her drink, and a gin and tonic for himself. Handing his card over, he puts one elbow on the bar and turns towards her.

“I’m really glad you came, Maki Roll. You look awesome.”

“Thanks,” she says, and she bites her lip to stop herself from blushing.

 _“Don’t be stupid,”_ she thinks, _“it’s just a compliment from a drunk guy.”_

“Besides, I’ve never seen you when you’re drunk! I imagine it’d be kinda funny.”

The bartender hands the drinks to Kaito and he starts to walk back to the table with her. Setting the drinks down, he pulls out her chair and says, “Ladies first,” bowing in an exaggerated fashion. Despite her calm demeanour, she can’t help but let out a small laugh.

“Your laugh is, like, really pretty,” Kaito says. He’s not quite slurring his words, but he’s not sober either.

“Thanks.”

They talk about work together whilst they finish their drinks. Shuichi and Kokichi seem to be having a conversation of their own, which leaves Maki and Kaito to talk between themselves.

“So, tell me, what do I need to know about the infamous Maki Roll?”

“Infamous?”

“You know what I mean! Just, tell me about yourself.”

“There really isn’t anything interesting for you to know.”

“Bullshit! I’ll start – what’s your favourite colour? What’s your life goal? What sorta stuff do you do outside work?”

“Uh, okay,” she says, “I like red; I don’t really have a life goal, I just take each day as it comes; and outside of work, I, well…”

She trails off. What _does_ she do outside of work? She drinks, and smokes, and sees Himiko, but besides that, there’s not much else. _“God, I sound boring,”_ she thinks, and then, _“why do I care if he thinks I’m boring?”_

“I like your life philosophy, Maki Roll! Taking each day as it comes is the best way to be,” Kaito replies. Maki notices that he’s focusing on the positive things she said, rather than her strangely awkward half-sentence about her personal life.

“So what about you?” Maki asks.

“Oh! Well, I’m Kaito Momota, currently working in an office, but I swear one day I’ll get to space!”

“Oh,” she says, “wow. That’s…a lot. How do you plan on doing that?”

“No idea! But I’ll get it done!”

Instead of being irritated by Kaito’s optimism, Maki finds hope within it. There’s something vaguely interesting about him, and Maki would think that it’d be nice to get to know him more, if she didn’t know better. No, she doesn’t do attachments. It’s better that way.  
  
“But really,” Kaito is semi-slurring now, “I’m so glad you came. Sometimes it feels like I’m third-wheeling these two.”

He gestures towards the opposite end of the table, but only Shuichi is there. Maki barely has time to wonder where Kokichi is gone before he reappears, a tray of at least twenty shots in his hands.

After that, Maki doesn’t remember much apart from the nice warm feeling in her chest, which she blames on alcohol, and absolutely nothing else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy this chapter! I wrote it whilst drinking gin, so sorry if it's shit. But it's my birthday, so that's fun! Anyway, let me know what you think in the comments. I love reading people's opinions of my work. And, as always, have an awesome day!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The only way for Maki to celebrate finishing work for a week is to get thoroughly drunk with Rantaro. However, drunk Maki is very different to sober Maki, and there are going to be some awkward consequences to her actions.

Waking up with a hangover isn’t exactly how Maki had planned her last day at work before Christmas to start. Her alarm feels like death itself has crawled up from the depths of god-knows-where just to piss her off, everything is loud and obnoxious, and she feels like, at any moment, she could throw up all over her floor. She doesn’t blame herself, she blames Kokichi, because he’s the last real memory that she can recall before the night turned into a blur of alcohol and trips to various pubs.

Getting out of bed, she notices that she’s still wearing her clothes from last night. The only solution is to stand in the shower for as long as she can before having to get ready for work, and then to survive on as much coffee as humanely possible.

When she walks into the office, she passes Shuichi’s cubicle to see that he’s in the same state as she is. His cap is covering his eyes even more than normal, and he looks like he hasn’t slept at all. Kokichi, on the other hand, is leaning over the cubicle wall into Shuichi’s personal space, bright-eyed and annoying as ever. For someone barely over five foot, he sure can handle his alcohol – either that, or he’s very, _very_ good at disguising a raging hangover.

“Morning Maki!” Kokichi shouts right next to her ear. She turns around and glares at him, although she admits that her usual stare loses a little of its punch when her eyes are tired and still surrounded by the remnants of last night’s eyeliner.

“Fuck off,” she replies.

“Ooh, can someone not handle her shots?”

Before Maki can even form a fist to threaten him with, the conversation is interrupted by Shuichi jumping up from his desk and running in the general direction of the bathroom.

 _“At least I’m not in the worst state out of all of us,”_ she thinks.

After making what she thinks is quite possibly the strongest coffee in the world, Maki heads to her cubicle. The whole office gets a week off work after today, so she assumes that nobody will really be doing much work. If she could pick a day to come into work hungover, today would have probably been it anyway. In the midst of booting up her computer, her eyes flash to the coloured piece of paper on her wall. She had forgotten all about putting up the post-it note from Kaito, and there’s another one next to it, one that she didn’t pin up.

Leaning in closer to read it, she sees that it’s still Kaito’s handwriting.

 _“Yo, you need more cute shit in your cubicle! Hope you don’t mind me putting this note up – you’re not in early today and I’m all about seizing opportunities. How’s the hangover? I feel like I’m dying!_  
_– Kaito_  
_P.S. Communicating via post-it note seems fun, but you should totally text me sometime!"_

Underneath, there are more badly drawn planets and stars. Checking that nobody is watching her, Maki smiles and inputs the number from the first note into her phone.

 _“There’s no harm in replying to an innocently friendly message,”_ she thinks, _“right?”_

 **< To Kaito Momota: 09:36> **In response to your note, I’m incredibly hungover and thinking of how many ways I could kill Kokichi without getting caught.

 **< From Kaito Momota: 09:37> **yooooo maki roll!! you made it into the office! i was kinda worried about u for a sec…

 **< To Kaito Momota: 09:42> **I’m hungover, not dead.

 **< From Kaito Momota: 09:42> **i think im both :O anyway! wanna come for a cig?

 **< To Kaito Momota: 09:47> **Sure. Meet me outside in 10.

Maki swears that she’s not smiling at her phone like a twelve year old idiot. She’s just feeling a little better now that she’s had a coffee, and that’s all. And a cigarette sounds nice. And maybe she wouldn’t expressly _dislike_ some company, too. But that really, truly is all.

* * *

 

Kaito’s already sat in the smoking area by the time she gets there. There’s nobody else there, and he hasn’t noticed her walking up yet; he’s engrossed in some video that’s playing out loud on his phone. When she sits down, his head shoots up, he pauses the video he was watching, and he gives her a smile that doesn’t seem like the smile of a hungover man.

“Hey, Maki Roll!”

“Hey.”

“So, uh, last night was, fun – I think. You have any idea what happened?”

“Before or after the shots?”

“Oh _god_ did we do shots?”

“Kokichi,” she offers a one-word explanation that says everything Kaito needs to hear.

“That little shit. I swear he knows my weaknesses!”

“To be fair, you’re kind of a lightweight.”

“I’m not!”

“About half of the times I’ve seen you, you’ve been drunk,” she laughs a little.

“Okay, fine,” he says, “but this isn’t me admitting defeat! I _never_ do that.”

“Sure, sure.”

They pause for a moment, lighting up their cigarettes in unison.

“Terrible habit, isn’t it?” Maki says.

“Yeah, but it doesn’t look like either of us are gonna quit any time soon.”

“Eh, I’m still young,” Maki tells him, “I’ll quit by the time I’m thirty.”

“I’ll hold you to that!”

“We won’t still be working in this shithole when we’re thirty.”

“Yeah, but we’ll still know each other!”

Maki smiles gently and shakes her head, not refuting his optimism but merely floored by it. She’s known him for a few days and he’s already decided that they’re going to be friends. Well – she supposes that one more friend in her small bank of acquaintances wouldn’t hurt.

“Hey, you wanna see something funny from last night?” Kaito asks.

“Oh god, I don’t know if I want to,” she replies.

“Oh come on! I’ve been watching it all morning and laughing.”

Kaito scoots across the bench to sit close enough to Maki to show her his phone. There’s a video loaded on his camera roll, and when he clicks play, Maki sees herself stumbling into view, dragging Kokichi behind her as Shuichi watches on in mock-horror in the background.

“You…little…shit,” the very drunk Maki on the video slurs, “fucking vaping in my fucking face you…fuck.”

Kokichi then turns to the camera and, with a drunken smile, falls down in such a way that he drags Maki alongside him, and they both end up on the floor. Shuichi is running over, and Kaito’s laughter from behind the camera drowns out Shuichi’s worried shouts to the pair on the ground.

As the video cuts out, Maki is mortified and Kaito is laughing so hard that he almost falls over, too. He’s nearly doubled over, tears in his eyes, and he leans against her for support getting back into his regular position. Giving in to his cheerful demeanour, Maki laughs too, reasoning that she can’t go back and change her drunken actions, so she may as well just take the Kaito approach to life and laugh it off.

They walk back to the office together, talking about last night and how they both woke up feeling like death. They’re united over how pissed off they are at Kokichi, and for once, Maki feels like she might actually, partially, semi-enjoy her job. But that’s stupid. She’s probably just still a little bit drunk.

* * *

 

As the day creeps on, she feels marginally better the more time passes. By the time she’s set to go home, she doesn’t feel hungover at all, but she’s glad that she doesn’t have too many plans for this week. She just wants a little bit of time to be Maki – without the makeup and the cool exterior and the faux-hardened heart.

She’s a few hours into relaxing in front of the TV when her phone buzzes with a text. Thinking that it might be Himiko, she picks it up to check if everything is okay.

 **< From Rantaro Amami: 19:10> **hey maki do you fancy a free dinner tonight?

 **< To Rantaro Amami: 19:11> **Explain…

 **< From Rantaro Amami: 19:13> **i had this tinder date with this guy and i booked us fancy reservations at that new restaurant across town – the waiting list is like months but i sweet talked the owner and got us a table for eight but he’s just texted saying that he’s bailing on me so…free dinner

 **< To Rantaro Amami: 19:14> **Sounds good, I’ll meet you there at 8?

 **< From Rantaro Amami: 19:15> **brilliant

Maki quite likes spending time with Rantaro. He’s not too in-your-face, and it’s nice to just sit back and talk with someone who really doesn’t care too much about the bad things in life. He’s a breath of fresh air, to be honest. So she gets ready, and puts on a nice dress, thinking that she should probably get dressed up for dinner at an expensive restaurant.

When she arrives, Rantaro is already waiting outside. He links arms with her as if they were on a real date, and they walk inside. The waiter seems to recognise Rantaro’s name, and they’re seated in a private booth at the end of the restaurant, away from everyone else in the sort of privacy that can only be bought with lots of money.

“This is a good way to spend your inheritance, huh?” Maki says, and Rantaro laughs. They both know that he was never close to his parents, but their inheritance has left him secure for the rest of his life. Still, he’s told Maki several times that he works an office job because he wants to be at least somewhat self-reliant, and it’s evident that without something to do every day, he’d quickly grow bored.

Once they’re seated and the menus have been brought out, Rantaro orders the most expensive bottle of red wine and sits back waiting for Maki to choose her meal, persuading her to get a starter as well.

They settle on buying an extortionate amount of food, and telling the waiter to keep refilling their wine without regard for the price – Rantaro has opened a tab that he knows he can easily pay.

“Thanks for tonight,” Maki says, “are you sure you don’t mind, y’know, all this?”

“Maki, dude! I’m rich now, and I’m not gonna do what my parents did and die with a huge sum in the bank; life’s for living, and I have my job, anyway. I can pay my bills with my salary alone, so all this,” Rantaro gestures to the restaurant around them, “is just fun spending money.”

“Fair enough.”

The waiter approaches the table with the first courses for them both. Seeing them engrossed in conversation, he smiles genuinely and says. “Date night?”

Maki opens her mouth to protest, but Rantaro nods and smiles warmly. When the waiter leaves, he lets out a small laugh.

“Dunno why I said that,” he says, “it just seemed funny at the time. Y’know, me, dating a _girl._ ”

“Maybe you’re just subconsciously missing Kokichi,” Maki replies, her mouth half full of food, “and you want to convince the world that you’re still in a relationship.”

“Ouch! Hit me deep in the feelings there, Maki. But nah, really, I’m over him. Thank god I never moved in with him, right?”

“That would have been a total disaster and we both know it.”

“But what about you? How’s your love life going?”

“Non-existent, as ever.”

“Are you _sure_ about that? I mean,” Rantaro pauses, a sly look on his face, “is there not _someone_ you’re getting close to?”

“I have absolutely no idea what you mean.”

“Oh, come on, Maki! You never socialise outside of work except when you’re with me, and suddenly your cubicle is decorated with little post-it notes and you’re taking smoke breaks with a certain someone.”

“Firstly, two post-it notes, one of which I didn’t even put up myself. And secondly, it was _one_ smoke break today, and that’s it.”

“I dunno, you seemed pretty close when he was showing you something on his phone. His head was super close to your shoulder; he had total heart eyes for you!”

“You were _watching?_ ”

“Not watching per-se, but I was getting high round the corner of the building and just happened to see you guys together. Don’t get me wrong, I think you’re a pretty cute couple, it’s just that, y’know, you and feelings don’t exactly…mix.”

“Fuck off,” she says playfully, “I have feelings! Just not for him.”

“Look me in the eyes and tell me that,” Rantaro takes a gulp of wine and smiles expectantly. This familiar back-and-forth is common in their friendship, and Maki knows how to respond most of the time – it’s a battle of wits with a worthy opponent.

“Fine,” she looks directly at Rantaro, “I don’t have feelings for Kaito.”

Then she looks immediately away and hides her face with her glass.

The main course is the nicest meal Maki has ever eaten. Rantaro seems to be used to fine dining, but Maki’s idea of good eating is anything that doesn’t come from a packet or require a microwave. She’s lost in how good the food tastes, and then she’s finished before she even knows that she started.

“That was fucking _amazing,_ ” she says.

“There’s more to come yet,” he replies, “but let’s have a little mid-meal break.”

Rantaro calls the waiter over, and asks him to watch their bags whilst they step outside for a cigarette. The waiter is compliant, and they wander out of the door.

“You know what’d make the next course taste even better?” Rantaro asks.

“What?”

“This,” he pulls an already rolled spliff out of his wallet. Walking round to the back of the building for a little more privacy, they find an old bench and sit down before lighting up. Maki immediately feels herself loosen up; the combination of weed and alcohol doesn’t work well for a lot of people, but it does wonders for her. Between passing the spliff, they sit in silence, enjoying the view of the dark sky around them.

“So have you texted Kaito yet? I saw his number on your little post-it. Pretty careless to leave it lying around, don’t you think? Anyone in the office – _even Kokichi –_ could call him,” Rantaro says.

“He’s not careless, he’s –”

“Ah, got you! You’re defending him when you know I’m right. You’re at least a tiny bit into him.”

“No, he totally is careless, I just meant…oh fuck off. He’s a nice guy, but that’s it.”

They go back inside, and Rantaro orders a full bottle of whiskey for them both. They’re not leaving any time soon, which is good, because the restaurant doubles as a bar, and will be open until at least the early hours of the morning. They keep ordering tapas, and the bottle of whiskey is over half gone by the time midnight rolls around, but neither of them are tired. Drinks continue being brought to them, and after another hour, the whiskey is entirely gone and Maki isn’t sure she will ever be able to see straight again.

“Let’s, uh, get a taxi?”

“Mm,” Rantaro says, standing up from the table only to immediately stumble and sit back down again, “gimme a sec. I’ll call us one – wait, two – you live on the other side of town don’t ya?”

He calls for two taxis, and they wait inside whilst Rantaro pays the bill. Stumbling to the front door, they see a car waiting outside with the taxi firm logo on the side and the window rolled down.

“Taxi for Rantaro,” the man inside says.

“Looks like this one’s mine, Maki,” Rantaro turns to her, “get home safe.”

“Mm, will do, see you.”

Rantaro gets inside and Maki hears him slur his address before watching the car drive off down the road.

* * *

 

She waits an indeterminate amount of time for her own taxi. In this period, she gets through half a packet of cigarettes as she sits on the wall outside the restaurant. Her head is spinning and she feels ridiculously drunk, so much so that the next time she checks her phone, over an hour has passed. She decides to ring the taxi company.

When the phone picks up, she’s greeted by an automated answer machine message telling her that the taxi service closed half an hour ago. Realising that her taxi isn’t going to show up, she tries to call various other companies, getting the same result each time.

 _“Shit,”_ she thinks, _“I’m stranded and I’m fucking freezing. I wish I’d brought a damn coat.”_

Scrolling through her phone, she tries to see who she can call. Himiko will be asleep, as will Angie and Gonta. She doesn’t want to call Shuichi – even though she’s drunk, she knows that he always stays up too late, and she’d feel too guilty if she woke him from what little sleep he’s actually getting. Then there’s Rantaro, who has already done so much for her tonight, and besides, he’s too drunk to drive her home anyway. So really, there’s only one option. An option that drunk-Maki is very willing to take at the expense of sober-Maki’s pride.

 **< To Kaito Momota: 02:37> **Kaaito are yiu awke?

 **< From Kaito Momota: 02:38> **yep!! is everything ok? are u drunk lol?

 **< To Kaito Momota: 02:40> **Yeah ad theres no taxis can you pLease pick me up?

 **< From Kaito Momota: 02:40> **of course!! where are u?

 **< To Kaito Momota: 02:41> **Uhh yknow that new fancyy restaurant thats justopened in town? Im there.

 **< From Kaito Momota: 02:42> **got it!!! i’ll be there in ten mins. hang tight, maki roll, your knight in shining armour is on his way! :D

Maki puts her phone clumsily in her bag, almost dropping it facedown onto the pavement as she does so. She has no idea what she wants; she’s not exactly tired, but she’s very, _very_ drunk, and right now, they feel like the same thing. Most of all, though, she just wants a blanket, or something warm to cover her freezing arms with.

Before she knows it, a car has pulled up next to her and Kaito is getting out of the driver’s side.

“Maki Roll! Nice to see you,” he says.

“Thank you _so_ fucking much.”

“No problem,” he smiles at her, “but you look freezing.”

“Genius observation,” she says, and then hiccups.

Kaito takes off his jacket and drapes it around her shoulders. It’s so warm, she instinctively pulls it closer around her like it’s the best thing she’s ever worn in her whole life. She’s still stumbling, so he gently puts one arm around her shoulder and guides her towards the car. Opening the passenger side door, he helps her inside and makes sure her seatbelt is fastened. He walks around the car and gets in the driver’s seat.

“You warm enough?”

“Less cold than before,” Maki replies.

Kaito turns the heating up a little until she nods and smiles at him, and then starts the car up.

“Where do you live?”

She gives him her address.

He thinks for a moment, and then a confused look spreads across his face.

“Wait,” he says, “you said you lived by my apartment that time you took me home, but you live across town. Did you move or somethin’?”

“Mm, no,” she replies, “I lied. Didn’t wanna make you feel bad.”

“Oh, wow, thank you,” Kaito says genuinely, “that’s…really nice. I guess we’re even now, then, huh?”

The car falls silent as Maki falls asleep.

She wakes up to find Kaito gently tapping her shoulder.

“We’re here,” he says, “let me walk you up. I’d never forgive myself if I drove you home and then you didn’t even make it up the stairs to your apartment.”

Maki nods at him, opening the passenger door into the cold street. She pulls Kaito’s coat further around her, but she’s still not as warm as she’d like to be. Stumbling towards the door, she tries to find her keys in her bag as Kaito locks his car and walks up to her.

“You need a hand, Maki Roll?”

“Uh, can’t find my keys.”

“May I?” Kaito gestures towards her bag, and she hands it over. Within a matter of a few seconds, Kaito has produced the keys from the inside pocket and he hands everything back over to her.

It takes Maki three attempts to unlock the outside door of her apartment block with her electronic key fob, which is quite possibly the easiest of all the locks to use, requiring only that the fob be placed somewhat near the scanner to register and open the door. They both progress inside.

“Which floor are you on?”

“Tenth.”

“Where’s the elevator?”

“Broken.”

“Ah, well, we can just take the stairs!”

They approach the stairwell, and Kaito guides Maki into taking the first step upwards. They continue like this for the first flight of stairs, until Maki gets a little overconfident and trips, falling backwards. Her heart skips as she expects to go tumbling down a few metres of solid metal steps, but she lands instead in Kaito’s arms.

“Woah, easy there, Maki Roll!”

She doesn’t want to get up and walk another nine flights, and it’s so nice to feel weightless in Kaito’s arms; he’s strong and she’s wrapped up in his coat, and for some reason, although the logical part of her brain mutely tells her that she’ll regret it in the morning, she leans into Kaito and closes her eyes. He doesn’t seem bothered by this, and lifts her up completely, carrying her with ease up the rest of the stairs. As he walks, she feels the light jump of her body with every step he takes, and she’s just so damn _comfortable_ that she throws the already dampened logical side of her brain completely out of the window.

Soon, he’s setting her feet down on the floor and putting his arm around her so she doesn’t fall again.

“Tenth floor,” he says, “which apartment?”

“Twelve.”

He helps her walk to the door, and when she can’t use her key properly, he opens it for her. She walks inside, and he’s about to say goodbye and turn to leave when she pulls him by the arm inside.

“I’m lonely,” she says, all logic and composure now gone along with the bottles of wine and whiskey.

“Why?”

Maki laughs. “I don’t know,” she says, “but I don’t wanna get drunk and then make you drive me home and then fall asleep being lonely. That sounds stupid, whatever, I’m drunk. Ignore me.”

“I think it’s impossible to ignore you,” Kaito tells her as he helps her to her bedroom. He pulls back the duvet on her bed and gently lifts her up to lay her on the mattress.

“I’m sleepy,” she says.

“Yeah, you should probably get some sleep. Let me just get you a glass of water to leave by your bed for the morning, and then I’ll head out. Is your door self-locking? I don’t wanna leave your apartment unlocked overnight, but you look so comfy.”

“Mm, it locks automatically when it shuts. Just, uh, pull the latch to let yourself out. But don’t go just yet…please.”

“Alright, I’ll stay.”

Maki closes her eyes and tries to focus on getting the room to stop spinning. She vaguely notices that she’s holding out her hand, and she becomes hyper-aware of this fact when Kaito holds it in return. He’s so damn gentle to her, and there’s a horrible part of her – a part that comes out after too much alcohol – that forces her to think of how this is something that she doesn’t deserve and will never have.

She drifts off to sleep to the sound of Kaito’s footsteps; he’s putting a glass of water by her bed, just like he said he would. And then, half-dreaming, wholly drunk, she thinks she hears him say “You’re beautiful,” and a genuine smile finds its way onto her face. Even if she’s dreaming, this is still nice. It’s a dream she doesn’t want to wake up from, a dream where she’s no longer Maki Harukawa, the cold, calm, collected woman; but Maki Harukawa, the girl who falls asleep holding someone else’s hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope you liked this chapter! It's a little longer than the rest, which I quite like. If you're following this fic, firstly, thank you! And secondly, here's a little note about updates:
> 
> I'm enjoying writing this fic so much, I don't want to rush my way through it. I know what I want to happen plot-wise, but I want to give all the chapters enough time to exist and breathe before posting a new one directly after. So, I'm going to make the update schedule once every two weeks. That gives me time to draw the posting of this fic out, because it's not something I want to finish quickly; I'm enjoying writing it as much as I'm enjoying reading the lovely comments on it! I hope that's okay with you all.
> 
> Anyway, if you liked this chapter, let me know in the comments. I value every single one of you who reads my work, and I'm so happy when I read what you think. And, as always, have a lovely day! :D


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After last night, Maki doesn't know how to resume her friendship with Kaito. But she has other things on her mind. At the end of everything, she always finds her way back to him; and yet she doesn't know why - or, rather, doesn't want to confront why.

It’s well past midday when Maki finally wakes up. The world isn’t spinning, but she doesn’t feel grounded; her duvet is too warm and her makeup feels offensively oppressive on her face, she’s semi-aware of the heat of her hair sticking to her back, which makes her feel disgusting. Her head hurts – not in a hungover sort of way, although she’s sure that drinking so much last night is certainly a major factor in feeling this way. Reaching for her phone on the bedside table so that she can check the time, she tries to recall what happened between going to the restaurant and getting back home.

Like a vignette style old movie, her memories come back to her in short, sharp bursts; time, as a concept, is alien to her, and she doesn’t know the exact order in which things occurred, but that’s natural – her thoughts will come back in time, and she’ll be able to reconstruct a timeline to analyse. She remembers getting high with Rantaro, which was, in retrospect, always an inevitability, and then she remembers Rantaro going home in a taxi, and then –

 _“Shit,”_ she thinks.

It’s like a dam wall within her mind has suddenly burst open, and the floodgates have failed, so now she’s swimming – _no, drowning_ – in regret after what she did. One word plays over and over in her head.

_Lonely._

She’d told him that she was lonely, and now she feels like bile is creeping up her throat, acidic and coursing. There’s a lengthy pause before she gets out of bed, in which she tries to think of anything else to distract her from the fact that she told Kaito she was _lonely._ But she keeps coming back to that one word, that statement, that terrible admission.

 _“Which, by the way, is a lie,”_ she tells herself. This brings her no comfort. Whether it’s a lie or not, she still said it, and it’s not like she can just take back a statement which had such gravity behind it. Her thoughts spiral into ‘what if’s, the terrible anxiety of not truly _knowing_ Kaito causing her to launch herself through possible scenarios that could progress from this point. He could tell everybody what she said, and after Christmas, the whole office could be laughing at her behind their cubicles. That’s her main worry – that everyone will believe Kaito because he’s just that kind of trustworthy person. But she doesn’t really know him; it could all be a front for a liar. And if enough people believe a lie, it becomes the truth, in a way.

But Maki Harukawa isn’t lonely.

She fixates on this as she steps into the shower. She’s never cared what people think about her before, although usually they think she’s cold and aloof, perhaps mean, and she’s fine with that. The only reason that she’s worried now is because it’s a false insecurity, something that she doesn’t want other people to think, purely because it’s a blatant lie. Still, there’s a small part of her that thinks it would be nice to be regarded in a positive light; not by everyone, but by someone. _Someone._

When her shower is finished, Maki feels a little better. At least the physical reminders of last night have been burned away by the scalding heat of running water. Her phone is still on the bed, where she last left it, and she’s glad she spotted it before she bundles up her bedcovers to put in the wash later on today. It hits her, after this, that she’s thirsty, and the glass of water that’s still next to her bed seems like a miracle right now. That is, until halfway through drinking, she realises exactly who left it there for her.

 _“It would be so much easier to hate him if he wasn’t so fucking kind,”_ she thinks.

Stepping onto her balcony in her dressing gown, with wet hair trailing down her back, she fumbles for a packet of cigarettes in her pocket. When she lights one, she feels almost calm; not completely at ease, but enough. She’s always lived her life teetering on the boundary of _enough,_ so this is okay. Besides, it’s Christmas Eve. She can’t be wallowing in sadness on Christmas Eve – a ridiculous reasoning, since she doesn’t really celebrate Christmas, but a reasoning that works nonetheless. And although Christmas isn’t a big deal to her, it is – _or was_ – to Himiko, so she has other priorities today. Staying inside thinking about Kaito and how she can’t find a logical reason to hate him would be a waste of time.

After she’s finished her cigarette, she stubs it out in her ashtray and walks back inside, realising just how cold it was outside when she re-enters the warmth of her apartment. There’s an increasing temptation to do nothing today, to get back into bed and just sleep her way through the holidays, but she knows that she won’t forgive herself if she doesn’t visit Himiko.

She picks up her phone to check her notifications from last night. There’s a Facebook notification – Rantaro tagged her in a photo of them at the dinner table, wine in hand, looking drunk enough that anyone could assume it was their last night on earth. She smiles a little at this; he looks pretty even when he’s drunk. Then, there are a few emails from work about projects that will be commencing after the Christmas week off, which she doesn’t delete, but doesn’t read either. Finally, there’s a text, and she knows even before she opens it who the sender is.

 **< From Kaito Momota: 10:51> **yoooo maki roll!! i just woke up and i thought i’d check how u were :D

She thinks for a second before replying. Of course, she doesn’t particularly want to talk to anyone right now, let alone the man who held her hand until she fell asleep last night because she was too damn _weak_ to be alone; but it would be even more awkward to not reply at all. And he hasn’t particularly done anything wrong, either. No, the problem is that he’s done everything perfectly, according to normal people’s standards. _“It’s me who has the problem,”_ she chastises herself.

 **< To Kaito Momota: 13:40> **I’m fine. Thanks for driving me home. Sorry if I was weird, I was really drunk.

 **< From Kaito Momota: 13:42> **nah u weren’t weird at all. i’ve seen worse, u wanna see shuichi when he’s pissed, it’s……..something else entirely

She smiles at his reply, and then forces her face into a scowl. Thinking about anything other than Kaito, she settles her mind onto the topic of Himiko, and lets her thoughts run with this as she’s getting ready. It takes almost an hour to blow dry her hair, and after that, she still has to do her makeup so she doesn’t look so hungover. By the time she’s finished with all this, it’s approaching four in the afternoon. Regretful that she didn’t wake earlier, Maki grabs her bag and heads out of her door. Momentarily, she pauses, realising that it’s cold outside, and she re-enters her apartment to grab a jacket. Tired and thinking of other things, her hand just finds the first piece of warm fabric she gets hold of, and then she leaves once more.

* * *

 

 _“At least my car has heating,”_ she thinks, as she cranks it right up to maximum. Every radio station is playing Christmas songs, so she decides to drive over to Himiko’s in silence. She’s not in the mood for faux-festivity and singers pretending to be happy and excited, when really Christmas is just one big paycheque for those who produce media in December. Sure, she’s cynical, but she’s never had a big family Christmas, and she doesn’t want to start pretending like she gives a shit about a season that forces you to spend time with family. Call it bitter, call it jealousy, Maki doesn’t care. She prefers January.

Pulling up outside Himiko’s house, Maki takes off the jacket she brought on her way to the front door. As she’s fiddling with the soft fabric, she realises that she doesn’t recognise it, and her heart sinks for a second and she connects the dots.

The jacket is too big for her. It’s not a jacket she recalls buying. And she has a new memory now – another little snippet of last night.

 _“Fuck,”_ she thinks, _“this is Kaito’s.”_

Still, she’ll sort that particular dilemma out later. There are more pressing things to do right now. Her own little problems don’t matter in this house.

She pushes open the unlocked door, and immediately the smell of freshly baked mince pies hits her nostrils. It’s beautiful, and makes her even hungrier than she already was. But she knows that Himiko won’t be in the kitchen, and she calls out to let the inhabitants of the house know that she’s here.

“Hey, “ she says, loud enough so that everyone can hear, but quiet enough not to startle anyone.

Gonta comes bounding out of the kitchen, wearing a red and green apron that only barely ties around his waist. He’s smiling – because it’s Christmas Eve, and because he’s Gonta, and because that’s what he does best – and he runs up to Maki with a tray in his hand.

“Hello Maki! Merry Christmas Eve! Gonta and Angie baked mince pies, you want one?”

“Yes, please,” she replies, and takes one from the tray. Gonta and Angie’s baking is always delicious, even if they leave the kitchen in a terrible mess. The mince pie is perfect, exactly what she needed, and if she didn’t know any better, she’d say that she could almost feel some Christmas spirit. But not today; no amount of home cooked food and decorations will cheer Himiko up, and Maki knows that’s why she’s here.

“That was delicious, Gonta,” she says, “do you know where Himiko is?”

“Oh yes! Gonta see her last, erm, in her room!”

“Thanks.”

On her way to Himiko’s room, she sees Angie emerge into the hallway.

“Hi!” Angie says, energetically. Maki wonders how she isn’t affected by Himiko’s depression seeping into the cracks of the house.

“Hey,” Maki replies, “I’m just gonna take Himiko…out.”

“Ahh, I understand! I’ll say a prayer for her.”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

With that, she pushes open Himiko’s door gently. A sense of pride swells in her chest when she sees that the curtains are open and Himiko is dressed.

“Hey. Do you wanna go…there today?”

Himiko nods. “Let’s go, before I change my mind,” she says.

“Okay. My car’s outside.”

On the drive, there’s silence again. Maki’s glad that she drove here without the radio on, because if she hadn’t, Christmas songs would have immediately blared out the moment she started the car, and she doesn’t want to subject Himiko to any more mental turmoil than she’s already experiencing. They pull up outside the churchyard, and Maki waits for Himiko to make the first move. She doesn’t want to force this to progress any faster than Himiko can manage. This results in them sitting there, stoic, not talking, for five minutes.

Then, as if in solidarity, or anxious prompt, Maki lays her hand over Himiko’s.

“Okay. Okay, it has to be now,” Himiko says, and they exit the car.

Amidst the cracked graves, unkempt and forgotten, one stands, solitary and crisp, death-white. The inscription hasn’t faded – it will never fade – not with the care that goes into upholding this grave. Everyone loved Tenko. Everyone still loves Tenko.

Himiko reaches into her large bag and pulls out a wreath. It’s a cacophony of greens and flowers and little bows; just how Tenko would have liked it. Bright, bold, and beautiful. Just like she was.

They sit by the grave, contemplating the way the air moves around them, as if the living and the dead were one object, connected in a warm seclusion from the winter; active, alive minds trying so hard to connect with the remnants of a dead woman.

“I miss you, Tenko,” Himiko says, “you were always so…Tenko. You weren’t like anyone I’ve ever met before. And…I’m scared, because I’ll never meet someone like you again, and I don’t want to. I don’t want to forget you, and I never will. And it’s Christmas, and you loved Christmas, and I don’t want to spend it alone any more. I can’t hear those damn songs – not even that one you used to love about giving someone your heart – because I just think of you all the time. I can’t stop thinking about you for a second. And I just wish you were here.”

Maki rests her hand on Himiko’s back and pulls her close into a hug. Himiko openly sobs; a heart-wrenching sound as she shakes with each breath and clings closer onto Maki. They both wish that Tenko was here. Maki knows that they both need Tenko back in their lives.

They sit there for an hour, until the sun begins to fade beneath the horizon. Winter white sky turns soft blue, and piercing, cold sunlight irons out the creases in the world, blanketing the day in a frostbitten, rocking wave of unsaturated colour. Himiko sleeps, unintentionally, softly, against Maki’s shoulder; her dreams, no doubt, are of Tenko, and of a happiness that has been bitterly ripped from her like acid in her lungs.

Not having the heart to wake her, Maki carries her slowly to the car, and drives her home. Reaching the front door, Gonta helps her carry Himiko to her bedroom, and together, they tuck her into bed. After Gonta leaves, presumably to go and tell Angie that Himiko is home, Maki gently kisses the top of Himiko’s head and whispers, “Merry Christmas.” She hopes, from the depths of her heart, that Himiko can find some joy tomorrow.

Once she’s left, she’s motivated enough that her earlier hangover seems a world away. Of course, she feels sad, thinking of Tenko, but she pushes that aside; her role is to help Himiko, and she can’t mourn the loss of her friend until Himiko has come to terms with the loss of her lover. That’s just how the world works.

But she’s got something else to do, now. She needs to give Kaito his jacket back, so she can stop worrying about whatever she said or did last night. Before she starts driving, she texts him to see if he’s home.

 **< To Kaito Momota: 18:21> **I still have your jacket. I’m in town now, just finished visiting my friend, so I can drop it off if you like?

 **< From Kaito Momota: 18:22> **sounds great!! you remember my address?? i’m excited to see u :D

 **< To Kaito Momota: 18:23> **Yeah, I’ll be there soon.

* * *

 

Maki doesn’t understand why her legs are shaking on the drive to Kaito’s. It’s not cold in her car any more, and she doesn’t feel nervous about seeing him again, does she? Still, she drives on anyway, and parks up outside Kaito’s apartment block, before realising that she doesn’t know which apartment, or even which floor, is his.

 **< To Kaito Momota: 18:37> **Hey, I’m outside. Which floor should I buzz?

 **< From Kaito Momota: 18:38> **ooooh shit yeah i forgot to tell u! i’m on the third floor, buzz that one and i’ll let u up :D

She does so, and soon, the door clicks out of place. As she stands in the elevator, she wonders how she’ll know which apartment Kaito is in, but she just thinks that she’ll text him when she’s on the third floor.

The elevator doors open, and before she can even unlock her phone, Kaito is jogging down the hallway towards her. He’s smiling like he’s the happiest man on earth, and she can’t help but smile back, her anxiety alleviated by the fact that he doesn’t seem to view her any differently than he did prior to last night.

“Sorry about, y’know, the whole jacket thing,” she says.

“Don’t worry about it, Maki Roll! I gave you the jacket to keep you warm, so I’m glad it did its job!”

“Still, I feel guilty.”

“Don’t be stupid. Anyway, come in! The whole gang’s here!”

“The whole…what?”

“Everyone! Shuichi, Rantaro, Kokichi, me, and now, you!”

“I mean, I –”

“Please?” Kaito puts a faux-frown on his face, and Maki closes her eyes, shakes her head, and laughs.

“Fine, five minutes. Just to say hi.”

“Yes!”

He practically drags her inside by the hand, running to his apartment like an excited child. She follows behind, smiling slightly, glad that he’s in front of her and can’t see her emotions. When he pushes open the door, Maki sees that he really wasn’t lying about having everyone over.

“Hey,” she says, and a chorus of greetings come in response.

“We’re, uh, making a gingerbread house. Kaito…kinda insisted,” Shuichi says. He looks completely out of place, wearing a Christmas t-shirt that’s far from his usual, muted office style, but he looks happy. Maki hasn’t seen him happy in a long time. She’s glad of that; she doesn’t mind Shuichi.

“Hey, Maki,” Rantaro says, “hungover?”

“No,” she smirks, leaving out the _“not anymore”_ part of that sentence, “are you?”

“Nope. You know I can handle my alcohol!”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Try some of our mulled wine,” Kokichi starts pouring her a cup before she can even respond.

“I shouldn’t, I’m driving,” she says.

Kokichi laughs unnaturally. “It’s non-alcoholic! Shuichi drove too, and he’s drinking some. Come _onnnn,_ it’s nice!”

“Fine,” she says. She’d initially planned on staying for five minutes, only a token gesture to please Kaito, but she doesn’t particularly mind staying a bit longer. Besides, it’s not like she has plans.

Half an hour later, she’s got icing sugar all over her nose, and she’s helping the others decorate little gingerbread men to adorn the gingerbread house. Well, if it can even be called a gingerbread house, that is – it’s more like a bombsite, but Kaito doesn’t seem to mind. Maki wonders if anything truly bothers him.

She’s busy watching Shuichi have a one-sided fight with an icing pipe when she feels a tap on her shoulder. Turning around, she sees Kaito, smiling as usual. He’s got two gingerbread people in his hands, and he puts them on the table in front of her.

“See! Look,” Kaito says, and Maki wonders what she’s supposed to be seeing, “it’s the gingerbread version of me and you! That’s me, in a spacesuit, and that’s you, with a really cute smile!”

“What gave you the impression that I’m the kind of person to smile?”

“Because I’ve seen the real person beneath this front you put up, and you want to be happy. And I think you can be.”

“What makes you think you know me?”

“Maki Roll, I _want_ to get to know you. You’re not as cold as you want people to think you are. And I think that underneath all that, there’s the most beautiful heart in the world.”

She scoffs. “You’re a goddamn idiot, you know that? But sure, I’ll admit, you make me smile sometimes.”

“Yes!” Kaito says, smiling even more now, “I knew it! Told you we’d be soulmates.”

She shakes her head, but she’s still smirking just a little. Although she admits, she has no idea why she just confessed that Kaito makes her smile.

The group continues for an hour, perfecting their disastrous masterpiece, until they all collapse onto the sofa, exhausted and happy. Kaito puts on some Christmas music. Kokichi grabs Shuichi by the hand and starts dancing in the middle of the living room, exaggerating every movement. Maki laughs, but soon she’s also being pulled up from the sofa by Rantaro. He pulls Kaito up as well, and they dance in a trio until they’re laughing like hell and shouting the lyrics to old songs. For once in her life, Maki lets herself be happy. It’s hard not to be, when on one side of her, there’s Rantaro, seemingly drunk, blurting out off-key Christmas songs; and on the other side, there’s Kaito, laughing so hard he looks like he’s about to collapse. They’re not so much _dancing_ as they are just twirling around, all holding hands. She’s hyper-aware of the feeling of Kaito’s hand in hers, and she grips tighter as they spin faster and faster, a carousel of faces and smiles that she finally, _finally_ feels part of.

It’s Shuichi who breaks her out of this bubble.

“Shit,” he says, “it’s eleven.”

“At night?” Rantaro asks.  
  
“Yeah, look,” Shuichi holds his phone out so everyone can see.

“How have we spent so long doing fuck all?” Kaito asks.

Kokichi laughs, and everyone turns to look at him.

“What do you know?” Maki scowls at him.

“Oh, _nothing,_ ” he enunciates every syllable.

“Tell me.”

“Well,” he smirks, “you know that mulled wine?”

“Yeah, what about it?” Kaito says.

“And you know how we made it non-alcoholic?”

“Don’t you –” Maki says.

“Yep! I spiked it!”

“To be honest,” Rantaro speaks up, “I was feeling a little lightheaded.”

“Me too,” Shuichi says, “but I thought I was just anxious.”

“Nope! You’re all drunk! Or at least tipsy.”

“Fuck,” Maki says, “my car’s outside. How much alcohol did you put in?”

“Oh, not much! Or is that a lie? Who knows?”

“You –” Maki glares at him, but Kaito holds her back from almost punching him.

“Listen, guys, you don’t wanna risk driving home,” he says, “not when it could be icy outside, and we don’t know how much alcohol Kokichi put in the mulled wine.”

“So, what? What do we do?” Maki says.

“You can all crash here, y’know, if you want. I have loads of blankets and pillows and the sofas are free. Or I’ll call you a taxi, but it’s Christmas Eve, so I don’t know how much they’ll be available.”

“Of _course_ we’re gonna stay,” Kokichi says light-heartedly, “it’ll be like a big sleepover!”

“Awesome,” Kaito replies, “okay, so, I have two sofas and my bed. I’ll get some blankets and we’ll just crash, ‘kay?”

Everyone nods. Rantaro, seemingly resigned to the fact that he’s staying overnight, continues drinking the mulled wine. Kokichi is still smiling to himself, and Shuichi seems to be stressed.

“Hey,” she says to Shuichi, “you alright?”

“Y-Yeah, just, uh, stressed. I like Kokichi but, uh, y’know, he can be…kinda difficult.”

“I totally feel that.”

“But we’re like, almost in a relationship. I don’t wanna tell him that his lying stresses me out.”

“All I can tell ya,” she says, “with my limited knowledge of relationships, is that you should probably be honest. He might not change, but at least he’ll know.”

“Yeah. Yeah, you’re probably right.”

“And you look knackered, you should sleep.”

“Y-Yeah, and that. I’ll, uh, take the sofa. With Kokichi.”

“Great,” she says, smiling genuinely at him, “I’m gonna go wash my face and try and get as comfy as I can for tonight. See you in the morning.”

“Yeah, see ya.”

She tries a few doors, eventually finding the bathroom. Splashing her face with water, she can’t help but think that she always seems to be comfortable around Kaito. But then again, she reasons, she’s usually drunk around Kaito, so it’s probably just the alcohol. Although that doesn’t explain why she likes having smoke breaks with him at work, but she’ll just ignore that part of it for now. She brushes her teeth with her finger, and tries to loosen her clothes a little.

Regretting wearing jeans and an uncomfortable shirt, she resigns herself to a night of uncomfortable sleep and makes her way back to the living room. Upon walking into the room, she sees Shuichi lightly sleeping on one of the sofas, and Kokichi sprawled out on the other. No doubt they’d started sleeping on the same sofa, but Kokichi must have taken the opportunity to piss Maki off, which is why he probably intentionally occupied the other sofa whilst she was busy in the bathroom. Looking regrettably at the floor, she’s about to try and settle down to sleep on the hard carpet when she hears Kaito’s voice.

“Fucking Kokichi,” he says, exasperated.

“I know, right. Rest in peace my back.”

“There’s no way you’re sleeping on the floor! Listen, take my bed, I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“That’s not fair,” she tells him, “it’s your apartment.”

“Exactly! So I have to be accommodating to guests. Although I do wish Kokichi would have slept on the floor, seeing as this is his fucking fault in the first place.”

“I hear that,” she replies, “but really, you can’t sleep on the floor. You practically carried me home last night, you deserve a good night’s sleep.”

“So do you!”

Shuichi stirs in his tipsy sleep.

“Let’s talk outside the living room. Don’t wanna wake him up,” Maki gestures to Shuichi.

They walk into the hallway. There’s an open door that leads into Kaito’s bedroom, and Maki walks in. It’s a nice room, she thinks, with lots of posters of stars and an advent calendar on the desk. It’s not the tidiest, but it’s easy to navigate, so she finds herself quite liking it. It’s very…Kaito.

“Wait,” she says, her drunken confidence taking over, “you have a double bed. Why don’t we just share that?”

“Y-Yeah,” Kaito stutters, and in the darkness of the room, he might even be blushing, but Maki doesn’t want to think about that. She’s too busy trying to control her own growing smile. “Yeah, we could do that.”

“Perfect,” she says.

“Do you want a t-shirt to wear in bed? I mean, your clothes are beautiful but they don’t look too comfy.”

“Do you not mind?”

“Of course not!” Kaito smiles. He opens one of his drawers and feels around for a moment before pulling out a t-shirt. It’s white, quite large, with the NASA logo on the chest. “Will this be okay?”

“Thanks so much,” she replies, “I’ll, uh, go and change in the bathroom?”

“Yeah, cool.”

In the bathroom, she takes off her jeans and shirt, and emerges wearing Kaito’s t-shirt. Thankfully, it goes down to just above her knees.

“Yo, Maki Roll, you look awesome!”

She smiles, and blushes a little. “Thanks,” she says.

“Want a cigarette before bed?”

“Yeah.”

Kaito’s bedroom leads onto a small balcony. They stand outside, smoking in the moonlight. Maki finds herself to be truly content, which is a strange feeling considering how anxious she was only that morning. She looks over at Kaito; he seems mesmerised looking at the sky.

“Let me take you stargazing one day,” he says, still focused on the night above him.

“I’d like that.”

“Awesome!”

“And sorry,” she says, “for, y’know, last night. I don’t think I properly thanked you.”

“Well, we’re even now! We’ve both been a taxi service for each other.”

“That’s true.”

They finish their cigarettes and walk back inside. Kaito locks the balcony door and stands, a little awkwardly, by the bed.

“Which side do you want?”

“Any,” she replies.

He gets into one side of the bed, and she follows suit by getting into the other. The duvet is warm, and she’s starting to get sleepy. Naturally, she rolls onto one side, and finds that Kaito does the same, although he has his eyes closed. Lying there for a few minutes, she half closes her eyes, and watches as he tries to go to sleep.

 _“This is nice,”_ she thinks.

Moments pass, and she’s halfway between being awake and asleep when she hears Kaito faintly say her name.

“Maki Roll, are you awake?”

“Yeah,” she replies, opening her eyes fully. He shows her the time on his phone; it’s just past midnight.

“Merry Christmas,” he says, smiling.

“Merry Christmas Kaito,” she replies, and drifts off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I really hope you're enjoying this so far. I'm enjoying writing it. I wanted this chapter to be a bit longer than it is, so I'm sorry about that, but nevertheless, here it is! I have deadlines next week (yay, university) so I'm glad I can get this uploaded now. Winter break starts on Friday 15th, though! :D
> 
> Anyway, if you liked this, please leave a comment. I love hearing people's thoughts on this, and comments are one of the (many) things that make writing worth it!
> 
> Also, huge thanks to my awesome friend DoDo for always supporting this fic.
> 
> As always, have an awesome day!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Christmas, and Maki spends it with a selection of people she loves. Sometimes, you only realise how much you care about someone in those little moments at night, when you realise exactly who you want to create traditions with for the rest of your life. Not that Maki will confront that possibility; not fully.

_The snow that falls outside her window, she imagines, feels terrible. It’s not the harbinger of joy; there is no Winter Wonderland to be found here - only the practicality of staying inside when the world is quickly turning to ice. Still, being inside isn’t exactly making her feel any better. The heating in the orphanage is always turned off, or at least to the lowest setting, to save money. She’s understood for at least a year now that the people who work here only care about their paycheques; they’re not stand-in mothers and fathers, and the children who view them as such are annoyingly naïve. But she pities them, nonetheless, especially those who knew their parents before coming here. There are seven year olds spending their first Christmas alone, and part of her wants to be there for them; but she doesn’t really care about them, so there isn’t much to separate her and the orphanage employees, other than the fact that she accepts her disdain and apathy._

_She’s given the blankets from her room to some of the younger children to keep them warm. The less-than-fresh Christmas dinner won’t be helping them much, and Maki has never really learned to live in comfort, so she doesn’t mind being cold._

_But being inside here - in this cage of cheap tinsel and children who wouldn’t even exchange greetings outside of this place, should their situation be different - is smothering her. The only things she has in her closet that haven’t been stolen by some of the other orphans are a jacket and scarf; these will do, she’s already wearing jeans and a t-shirt. Nothing in this place is truly her own, except her spirit, which, she will admit, is a little more broken with every year that passes._

_On her way downstairs, she checks that everyone is in the kitchen and the dining hall, preparing Christmas dinner in a halfhearted attempt to feel festive. She shakes her head when she hears the shouts of some of the younger children. There’s pity in her heart for them, still too young to understand that their mothers and fathers won’t be in their lives ever again, but hopeful enough to try and find some magic in the holiday season. She’s glad that she never knew her parents - it makes it so much easier to adapt and crush her emotions if she has nothing good to hold onto._

_In the office room - a room that the children are banned from entering - all the handbags of the employees sit, unguarded. They don’t care for her, so she doesn’t care for them, and she feels no guilt in taking a packet of cigarettes out of one bag, a lighter out of another, and a wallet out of a third. Then, she’s gone, swiftly. Nobody even hears the door close, as a solitary fifteen year old steps out into the snow._

_Stealing and sneaking out are not new concepts to Maki. She does it a lot, so often that she knows exactly which bars will look the other way if someone who looks young walks in; this is something she knows is sinister, but frankly, she doesn’t care about herself any more. If she chooses the unorthodox way of warming up, a glass of straight whiskey, it doesn’t really affect anybody’s life - there’s nobody around who really cares for her. She’s never had that. And besides, she’s an orphan, nobody would miss her if she left for Christmas, or even if she died in the cold like the little matchstick girl from the story she sometimes reads to the younger children. She likes to imagine herself as the girl in that story, lighting matches to keep herself warm until she dies; there’s hope there, in that heaven is where her parents could be. But heaven isn’t real, and her parents could have been terrible people. There’s a lot that she doesn’t know; she snuffs out this thought like the last match._

_Within the hour, she’s holding her second glass of whiskey and losing herself in thought. She imagines what life would be like if she had a family; maybe they’d have a huge fireplace, and lots of presents round a perfectly decorated tree; maybe they’d be eating a real, fresh, homemade Christmas dinner, and watching cheesy old films; but maybe her parents would be arguing, and she’d be wishing that she was an orphan - there’s really no way of knowing how a hypothetical situation would play out in reality. Sure, she’s a cynic, but it’s better than getting her hopes up when the world is so damn unfair._

_It’s getting late when she stumbles out of the bar. The snow from before has transformed into a blizzard; her scarf whips around her face and is lost to the wind. Pulling her coat closer around herself, she huddles in the small space between two cars and lights up a cigarette. She stays this way until each cigarette has been lit, smoked, and snuffed out; the only progression, now, is that her lungs and throat are burning. She’s still trapped in the cold, with fumbling hands freezing inside her pockets. Around her, the world is a terrifying canvas of blank white, as if she’s been rubbed over with thick, titanium paint - the painter will move on without her, and she’ll remain stuck, trapped, suffocating beneath the sticky tar that has erased her from existence. On shaking legs, she stands, and tries to walk forward. For every step she takes, the blizzard pushes her back in equal force; despite her efforts, she’s playing against a proportionate opponent, and she’s staying in one place. Suddenly, in the brief, infinitesimal moment that she stops pushing forward, she’s carried up by the wind - her feet are no longer touching the ground and she’s being tossed around. Nobody stands on the ground below, nobody can rescue her. She exists, now, at the mercy of the elements. Her breath catches in her throat, and she’s choking on the ice-cold snowflakes that whip against her face; trapped, mid-winter, she tries to scream but nothing comes from her mouth except a terrified, small whisper. This, she thinks, is how she dies._

_Then, there’s a strange feeling of warmth around her. Her entire body is surrounded by matches, but they aren’t burning her; she’s becoming one of them. She instinctively presses herself further into them, until she’s feeling the warm pressure of having something devoted entirely to her. With this, she closes her eyes, and imagines that death is kind._

* * *

 

Maki wakes up with a start. She’s dazed; her mind is trying to recollect moments from that dream - or memory - when she realises that the only thing she truly remembers is the feeling of being warm. This is a feeling that hasn’t left her; she recalls being surrounded by the light and comfortable heat of matches, which leaves her feeling strangely at peace, especially since this feeling is still there. 

As she comes further to her senses, she realises why.

She’s in Kaito’s bed; she remembers suggesting this last night, and internally, she scolds herself. But she can’t be too sad about it, not when she feels so relaxed and pleasant. Realising that she’s tangled within his arms, and he within hers, she doesn’t make any immediate move to get out of this position. Of course, it’s awkward, with her arm under his back, and his arm draped over her side, so they’re lying facing one another. His head is drooped a little; he’s softly breathing and snoring slightly. Silently, inside herself, she finds him adorable - and as long as she never says this thought out loud, she can dismiss it without worry. Still, she doesn’t find this situation uncomfortable at all, and she reasons that she can stay here just a little while longer, feigning sleep and feeling like she’s a normal person for once.

Her mind flashes back to how she fell asleep holding Kaito’s hand a few days ago. Whenever she thinks about this, her stomach drops - but right now, all of her negative thoughts seem to melt away. The panic that she’d had about Kaito making fun of her, or telling everyone about her weakness, seems so ridiculous in this moment; he’s so gentle to her. And when he’s sleeping across from her, every rise and fall of his chest makes her truly believe that he just wants the best for the whole world around him. 

Still, thinking like this is alien to her. She doesn’t like it - not that she particularly _dislikes_ it, either - and part of her wishes that she could go back to when her life was easier. Before she had friends, before she spent Christmas Eve making gingerbread houses with a group of people who didn’t mind her aloof exterior.

 _“Change,”_ she thinks, _“is neither bad nor good. I’ll just have to let life play itself out.”_

When Kaito snores a little and turns over in bed, Maki takes her opportunity to pull her arm out from underneath him so that they become separate entities, rather than the singularity of warmth that they were when she woke up. And yet, she doesn’t move out of the bed immediately. Instead, she stays staring at the ceiling, listening to the soft punctuation of Kaito’s breathing, imagining that, outside the window, the world is blanketed in snow. Any excuse to stay like this; indefinitely, forever.

But the world is not as beautiful as Kaito makes it seem. She still has obligations, things to do, and she can’t stay in bed with him until the year collapses around them, as much as that sounds like the much-needed rest that she won’t allow herself to have. This thought, more than any other, drills a hole in her chest, like the aching absence of _something_ has only just been realised, having been ignored for many years.

Carefully, so as not to wake him, she slips out of bed. The t-shirt that he let her borrow is so warm, and she doesn’t particularly want to wear her uncomfortable shirt from yesterday, so she just slips on her jeans and shoes, packing the rest of her clothes into her bag. As she’s making her way into the kitchen, she treads lightly, wondering if she’s the first one awake, despite not knowing what time it is. Unfortunately, she finds that this hypothesis is quickly proven wrong when she sees Kokichi sitting on the kitchen counter. He sees her, and takes his headphones out, smiling like he knows she can’t escape from talking to him.  
“Gooooood morning, Maki!”

“Too early for your shit,” she replies.

“It’s midday! That’s like, not early at alllll.”

“Wait, what? Shit.”

“Kidding! I was lying. It’s actually not even eight.”

Maki pulls her phone out of her bag to check the time. She never knows when Kokichi is lying, when he’s obscuring the truth, or when he’s being genuine. Something about him just hints at the fact that the ‘true’ Kokichi exists behind at least ten different personas; perhaps so hidden that even he has forgotten who he is at this point. However, her phone confirms that it’s ten minutes to eight.

“Fuck off,” she says, “why do you always lie?”

“Why do you always tell the truth?”

“I don’t.”

“Then answer your own question,” Kokichi laughs.

“Oh, fuck you. I’m too tired for this shit.”

“Merry Christmas to you too.”

“You’re an asshole. You purposely slept on the sofa last night so I wouldn’t have anywhere to sleep.”

“You slept with lover-boy in there,” he gestures his head to the hallway leading into Kaito’s room, “did you not enjoy that?”

“It was…better than the sofa, I’ll admit.”

“Then I did you a favour! You only hate me because I force you to confront your feelings.”

“What feelings?”

“Oh, come on! You’re, like, soooo into each other.”

“I am fucking not. And neither is he.”

“Now who’s the liar?”

“Fuck off.”

Kokichi smiles and nods at her. Something in his eyes tells her that he’s enjoying putting her through rigorous self-questioning, and she always rises to his blatant challenges, which she hates herself for.

“Are you leaving already?”

She nods.

“I have places to be,” she tells him.

“Or, consider this - you’re just too awkward to wake up next to Kaito and realise that you’re _super_ into him?”

“Yeah, you couldn’t be more wrong. Come and lock the door after me.”

“Fine,” he says, “and one more thing. You look good in that t-shirt.”

She rolls her eyes, and leaves before he can push her further over the edge.

Back in her car, she turns the heating all the way up and takes a moment to compose herself before driving back home. With every road she passes, she thinks of Kaito, and of how kind he was to let her sleep in his bed and wear his t-shirt; how she’s been lacking that basic form of human contact, and how it feels arguably worse to have had it, and to have had to leave it behind. But in the long run, she reasons that it will be easier to be alone - there’s less heartbreak and confusion if there’s nobody to love in the first place.

 _“Merry Christmas everybody,”_ the radio catches her attention, _“and a reminder that this is a prerecorded show, so don’t call in! Spend Christmas with those you love, enjoy the presents and food, and we’ll be back tomorrow with live shows from 6am. For now, here’s Slade…”_

She turns the radio off.

* * *

 

When she arrives back at her apartment, she goes inside to shower and change her clothes. It takes her an hour, and she sits in her bedroom afterwards with a cup of coffee, looking at Kaito’s t-shirt lying at the top of her laundry pile. She knows that she has things to do today, but for a moment, she just lets her mind wander, thinking about the feeling of warmth that is noticeably absent from her apartment right now. She’s never truly _hated_ being alone before, but now she’s thinking of the possibility that she’s just repressed her need to love and be loved for all her life. 

 _“That’s stupid,”_ she thinks, _“you can’t miss something that you’ve never had.”_

Once she’s spent - her thoughts have run themselves wild until she’s out of coffee - she picks her car keys up again and puts them back in her bag. Picking up her gift bag of presents for Himiko, Angie, and Gonta, she locks up her apartment and gets back into her car.

She arrives at Himiko’s house before Christmas dinner is served. She knows this immediately because it’s Angie who answers the door, and she’s still holding a wooden spoon in her hand. 

“Hey, Angie!”

“Hey, Maki! Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas

“Come in, come in! I’m just helping Gonta make the homemade gravy!”

“Sounds delicious, you need a hand?”

“Uh,” Angie pauses, “if you could get Himiko out of her room, we’d super appreciate it!”

“I’ll try. No promises, but I’ll try.”

Maki walks down the hallway and knocks on Himiko’s door. To her surprise, she hears a response from inside.

“I’m coming, I’m coming. Just give me a minute.”

“Himiko, it’s me,” she says, “I’ll wait outside, okay?”

“Oh, Maki. Come in.”

Maki closes the door behind her once she’s entered. Himiko is sitting on the edge of her bed holding a photograph of her and Tenko. 

“I thought you were Angie,” she says.

“Has she been trying to get you out all morning?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Are you gonna come out?”

“Yeah. I just…don’t know how. Y’know. When she’s not here.”

“Yeah, I get you. You don’t have to do the whole ‘Christmas traditions’ thing if you don’t want to.”

“I…kinda do want to. For her. But it’s just hard.”

“Yeah. I know. We can stop the moment you get too sad. Okay?”

“Mm-hmm. Let’s just…go.”

“Okay.”

Maki holds onto Himiko’s hand as they walk out of her room; it’s a walk they’ve done many times before, but it never gets any easier. The hallway is draped with tinsel, and Maki notices that Himiko almost winces away from the sight of it. She can’t fathom how hard this is for her.

When they arrive in the kitchen, Maki thinks that the best thing for Himiko to do is to distract herself with a task to accomplish.

“Hey, Gonta,” she says, “is there anything we can do?”

“Oh, hello Maki! Yes, Gonta thinks Himiko can take the potatoes out of the oven, if that’s okay.”

“Y-Yeah, I can do that,” Himiko says.

They all busy themselves, putting the finishing touches on the heavily decorated dining table and preparing the food. When it’s all done, Angie sets the places with cutlery and plates, and they sit down to eat. Himiko stands, before anyone can say anything, and sets an extra place at the head of the table.

“May I say grace?” Angie asks. They all nod. Angie bows her head and clasps her hands; the rest of them follow suit, although Maki tunes out slightly; she’s never really cared for religion.

“Thank you for this wonderful food and company,” she says, “and may blessings rain down upon us all. This Christmas, let us be joined in prayer and happiness, and let us never forget those we’ve lost and whom we wish could be with us today.”

Maki looks over the table at Himiko, her hands gripped together so tightly that her knuckles have turned white. She purses her lips and closes her eyes, knowing that there’s nothing she could say to make her best friend feel better.

“Let’s eat,” Gonta says, breaking the tension.

They all do. The food, mainly cooked by Angie and Gonta, is delicious as usual, and Maki fills her plate up high. She sees that Himiko is barely eating, and wonders if there’s anything she can do to bring a little happiness back into her life. Sadly, she comes up short of ideas. Conversation floods the group as they eat, but none of it really has any meaning; there’s always something missing when Tenko isn’t there.

Once they’re finished, Maki helps Gonta take the plates and cutlery into the kitchen to wash. She keeps looking over her shoulder to see if Himiko is feeling any better, but she’s only greeted with forced smiles, masking a terrible frown that hasn’t left Himiko’s face in over a year.

“Ooh, everyone,” Angie says, “let’s have cocktails! Himiko can make some wonderful ones, can’t you?”

“Yeah, I guess I can.”

“Yay! I’ll get a shaker and some glasses.”

Angie leaves the room, and then returns with a cocktail shaker, fruit juice, cordial, and champagne. Himiko, methodically, as if she’s distancing herself from reality, shakes up ice, cordial, and fruit juice, before topping it with champagne and serving it in four glasses. Maki is glad that Himiko made one for herself, too, because it means that she’s trying her hardest to feel some Christmas spirit. That, or she just wants to drink to forget. Maki hopes that it’s the former.

Within half an hour, they’re all on their second or third cocktail, and they’re watching TV in the living room. It’s quite welcoming, but Maki still feels a little out of place without Tenko to make her feel at home. Not that she blames Himiko, Angie, or Gonta - it’s just that Christmas has always been Tenko’s holiday, and without her, everything seems a little too tacky to be meaningful.

“Let’s watch ‘It’s a Wonderful Life’,” Angie suggests.

“Sure,” Maki says.

Midway through the film, just at the point of George Bailey’s near-suicide, Maki looks over to the roaring fire to see that Angie is asleep, curled up like a cat. She laughs a little, and nudges Gonta to get him to look. He laughs too, and they both look over the room for Himiko, to show her too, but she isn’t anywhere to be seen.

“I’ll go see if she’s okay,” Maki says.

She somehow knows where Himiko is without even having to look. When she gently pushes open the door to Himiko’s room, she’s not surprised to find her asleep, holding a photograph of Tenko like her dead lover is really there with her. Although it breaks Maki’s heart to see, she pushes aside her own feelings and covers Himiko in a blanket, taking care not to disturb the photograph in the process. As she leaves, she looks longingly at the scene that’s slowly becoming darker the more light gets cut off by the closing door. She wonders if Himiko will ever be happy again, and promises herself that she has to make her happy at any cost. It’s something worth dedicating her life to.

Back in the living room, she sits next to Gonta again.

“She’s asleep,” she says.

“Oh,” Gonta replies, “is she happy?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Gonta wishes he could make her happy.”

“Me too.”

“Will she ever be happy again?”

“Who knows? I hope so - I think she can be, if we all help her.”

“Gonta misses Tenko too, but can’t say so. Unfair on Himiko. Gonta selfish.”

“I don’t think that’s selfish, Gonta. I miss her too. It’s just…hit Himiko the hardest, since she was her girlfriend. But she was our friend - all of us.”

“Never thought of it like that.”

“Yeah, I still feel bad for missing her when at least I can go along with my life. With Himiko it’s different.”

“Yeah. But anyway, what’s been making you so happy recently?”

“What?”

“You know,” Gonta says, “you’ve seemed happier these past few days. Which is good - great!”

“Oh, I, uh, don’t know.”

“Is there a special someone?”

“No…not really,” Maki says, “I have someone from work who’s being really nice to me. Which is nice. But he’s not really _special._ I mean, he is, but like, not like that.”

“Oh! Gonta doesn’t understand, but that sounds lovely!”

“Yeah…I guess he is lovely.”

“If there’s one thing Gonta’s learned, it’s that you shouldn’t give up on lovely people! Especially after Tenko…if someone is special to you, you should tell them.”

“Thanks, Gonta.”

Maki’s phone suddenly beeps, and she picks it up to find that she has a text from Kaito, as if speaking about him has suddenly summoned him.

 **< From Kaito Momota: 19:13> **merry christmas maki roll!!! check out these cool ass jumpers me and shuichi got from my grandparents!!! :D [image.jpg]

Maki opens the photo that Kaito sent her to see him smiling next to Shuichi, wearing matching hand-knitted Christmas jumpers; his with a ‘K’, Shuichi’s with an ’S’. She smiles and shakes her head a little. His face shows her exactly the magic of Christmas that she’s been missing her whole life.

“Gonta’s sorry for intruding,” Gonta says, “but you’re smiling at your phone! Is this the special person?”

“Yeah,” she laughs, hiding her blush, “I suppose it is.”

She shows Gonta the photograph, and his face lights up.

“Gonta and Maki should take a photograph to send back to him!”

“Okay,” she says, and opens the camera on her phone. She smiles, and Gonta waves at the camera. The photo that they take ends up slightly blurry because of Gonta’s vigorous waving, but she sends it nonetheless.

 **< To Kaito Momota: 19:16> **Merry Christmas! Thanks for the t-shirt, by the way, I’ll give it back to you soon. My friend says hi. [image.jpg]

 **< From Kaito Momota: 19:17> **you look great!!! tell your friend i say hi!!!

 **< To Kaito Momota: 19:19> **Will do. What’s with the jumpers, anyway? They’re a bit Harry Potter-y.

 **< From Kaito Momota: 19:20> **haha, that’s what i always say!!! my grandma loves knitting so……..christmas jumpers are a thing. i love them!!

 **< To Kaito Momota: 19:22> **That’s sweet. How come Shuichi is there?

 **< From Kaito Momota: 19:23> **oh, his uncle is out on some detective case business. so i said he could stay here for christmas!!! we’re still in town cause my grandparents live pretty close so we’ve had dinner and now we’re drinking wine :D

 **< To Kaito Momota: 19:24> **Enjoy!

Maki puts her phone to the side of her and finishes watching the film with Gonta. He always cries at the ending, and this time is no different - she ends up hugging him until he falls asleep, and then she walks him to bed, letting him lean on her shoulder. As he gets into bed, she wishes him goodnight, and walks back through the house alone; awake in a city of sleeping people.

* * *

 

After exiting through the front door, she locks it and realises that she can’t get into her car - she’s been drinking, and can’t drive. Normally, she’d stay at Himiko’s, but there have been a lot of emotions today, and she just wants somewhere where she can exist without having to be the emotional support for someone else. Not that she minds taking on that role - she just needs time to realise that she’s alive, too.

So, she decides to walk home. It might take her a while, but she doesn’t particularly mind. As she starts walking, snow begins to fall, slowly at first, and then heavily. She feels her phone vibrate and make a noise inside her pocket, and she ducks under a bus shelter so that the snow doesn’t damage her phone as she checks her texts.

 **< From Kaito Momota: 20:13> **it’s snowing!!! maki roll can you see the snow???

 **< To Kaito Momota: 20:14> **Yeah, I’m walking home and I’m caught in it.

 **< From Kaito Momota: 20:14> **where are u?? my grandparents are asleep and shuichi is doin some work and i’m soooooo bored!!!

 **< To Kaito Momota: 20:16> **Walking home from my friend Himiko’s. You know near the bus station in town? By there.

 **< From Kaito Momota: 20:17> **that’s like a 15 minute walk from my grandparents’ house!! can i meet u for a cig?

 **< To Kaito Momota: 20:18> **Sure. Meet you by the bus station?

 **< From Kaito Momota: 20:18> **:D !!!!!

She arrives at the bus station within five minutes and waits underneath the covered walkway so that she can stay out of the snow. It’s beginning to pile up now, sticking to the streets and increasing in size rapidly. She thinks of Kaito, and hopes that he’s walking safely to meet her - her mind drifts to a horrible thought of him being hit by a stray car, and she dismisses that immediately. Although he doesn’t seem it, he’s clever, and she knows - or, rather, hopes - that he’ll be safe.

Her worries are alleviated ten minutes later, when Kaito runs up to her, his arms open. He hugs her, and she likes how warm he is. They continue hugging for a little while longer, before making their way out from under the cover of the bus station to light their cigarettes.

“I missed you,” Kaito says.

“It’s been less than a day.”

“Still! I love seeing you.”

“That’s sweet. I guess…I like seeing you too.”

“And it’s snowing! How awesome is that?”

“It’s just bad weather.”

“No way! I bet you loved making snowmen as a kid.”

“I…never did that.”

“Wait, what?”

“I never did anything for Christmas.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah. We didn’t really make a big deal out of it in the orphanage.”

“Oh, I, uh…I didn't know. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologise. You didn’t know - and it doesn’t bother me.”

“So you were…”

“An orphan, yeah.”

“Did you ever know your parents? Sorry,” Kaito backtracks, “that’s kinda personal.”

“It’s fine. And no, I didn’t. They died when I was really young. It’s hard to miss them when I never knew them.”

“Still, Maki Roll, that’s awful.”

“Eh, I’m over it.”

“So you’ve never really had a proper Christmas?”

“I mean, I have. I spend it with my friend, Himiko, and her friends. But, uh, last year, her girlfriend died, and it hit her kinda hard. So Christmas this year has been…weird.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Stop apologising. You didn’t kill her. There’s nothing anyone could have done apart from the drunk driver.”

“Shit, man. That must have been hard.”

“Yeah. Not that I’d really say anything. She’s had a lot more to deal with than the rest of us.”

“I think you give yourself too much to other people,” Kaito says, “like, you’re this sort of emotional crutch for everyone. I know Shuichi relies on you in work sometimes. And with your friend - I guess you’re just not taking enough time to realise that shit like this hurts you as well.”

“I…I never thought of it like that. I guess so,” she replies.

“So,” Kaito says, “do you _want_ to experience any Christmas traditions?”

“I mean, kinda, but it’s a bit stupid as an adult to relieve a childhood I never had.”

“It’s not stupid! And besides, I still do childish shit, and I’m not a kid any more.”

“I suppose…we could make a snowman? If you wanted to, that is.”

“Are you kidding? Of _course_ I want to!”

“Wanna come back to mine for a bit?” Maki asks, “I have some drinks in and there’s a nice bit of grass near my apartment where we could make one.”

“Awesome!”

They start walking together, crunching through the snow as a pair. It’s getting progressively colder outside, and when they brush hands, he gently holds hers, and she doesn’t pull away. He puts both of their hands in his pocket, and Maki smiles at the ground, thinking about how nice it is to be able to hold hands with someone. She’s been lacking physical affection for so long.

When they arrive back at her apartment block, she leads him upstairs and into her apartment, taking him straight to the kitchen. He sees her fully stocked alcohol shelf, and his face lights up into a smile.

“Yo, Maki Roll, it’s like a proper bar up here!”

“I know, right. What do you want?”

“Ooh, uh, whatever you’re having!”

“I’ll make us a flask of whiskey and coffee, y’know, for the whole snowman thing.”

“That sounds amazing!”

She gets a flask out, and pours a generous amount of whiskey into the bottom, mixing in coffee granules and hot water. When describing this drink to anybody else, it sounds disgusting, but she thinks it’s actually quite nice on a cold night. Once she’s made it, she grabs a scarf from her bedroom, and walks into the kitchen.

“You look so cute,” Kaito says, and then laughs, “shit, did I say that out loud?”

“Yeah, you did. But thanks. You’re not so bad yourself.”

“Thanks!”

They walk outside, and Maki shows Kaito how to walk to the small field two minutes away from her apartment. Once they get there, she stands awkwardly at the side, unsure of how to start making a snowman. She isn’t exactly experienced in fun childhood traditions.

Kaito, sensing this, takes the lead.

“So, you have to make a little ball of snow, like this!”

He shows her how to gradually build up a big pile of snow by rolling it across the grass. She didn’t think that it would be at all enjoyable, but she finds herself having fun, laughing in mild competition with Kaito as they see who can amass the greatest amount of snow.

“So, once you’re done,” he says, noticing that her snowball is far larger than his, “you take the smaller one and put it on top of the bigger one!”

“Like this?” Maki asks, and lifts up his snowball to place on top of hers.

“Perfect! You’re a natural.”

“And then what?”

“You decorate it?”

“With what?”

“Anything!”

“Like?”

“Well,” Kaito says, “you can use rocks for eyes, and a mouth.”

“That’s…creepy.”

“Yeah, it kind of is when you think about it. But still!”

Maki picks up some small rocks and starts putting a face on their snowman. It looks terrible, but in her heart, she finds a place to love it, purely because it represents having something that she’s never had before. When she thinks about it, Kaito is the only person she trusts to lead her blindly into new traditions, and she likes it.

“Wait, it needs a scarf,” he says, and then his eyes light up.

He runs across the street to a shop with all the lights off, and steals a piece of tinsel decorating the front of it. Maki gasps in mock-horror, and then doubles over laughing, because Kaito looks like he’s just committed the worst crime possible.

With the finishing touch of a scarf, their snowman is complete, and they both stand back to look at their masterpiece. Although it’s lopsided, and a little strange, Maki knows that it represents years of happiness that she’s missed out on, and she dreads the day that it melts. At first, she thinks that it’s the only thing tethering her to having a normal relationship with the world, but then she looks over at Kaito, smiling brightly, and realises that her first assumption was wrong.

“That was fun,” she says.

“We have to get a photo!”

They both stand on opposite sides of the snowman, Kaito posing and Maki merely smiling, as he takes a photo on his phone. The next thing she knows, her phone is beeping.

 **< From Kaito Momota: 22:09> **[image.jpg]

She saves the photo to her phone. Looking over, she sees that he’s setting it as his background, and she smiles when she sees how satisfied he looks.

“Wanna finish this whiskey with me?” Maki asks.

“Hell yeah,” he replies.

They sit on a bench at the edge of the small field. Passing the flask of whiskey coffee between them, they simply stare at the dark for a moment.  
“Yo, have you ever been stargazing?” Kaito asks.

“No.”

“Look up!”

She does so, and struggles to see many stars.

“Just keep looking. The more you look, the more stars appear in your vision. Focus on that little part of sky over there, see?”

“I can…wait, hold on,” Maki tries to focus her eyes, “I can see three stars pretty close together.”

“Yeah! That’s Orion’s Belt!”

“Oh, wow, that’s pretty cool,” she says sincerely, “what’s up with you and space, anyway?”

Kaito turns to her, his eyes wide; he’s slightly bouncing up and down with excitement and cold.

“When I was younger, my grandparents took me to this little cottage. Y’know, one of those places that’s like, super far from cities and towns? So there were no street lights. And I remember sitting outside with my grandfather, and there was this meteor shower, we could see, like, sixty meteors in the hour we were outside. And ever since then, I’ve been determined that I’m not gonna live and die on this planet.”

“That’s pretty awesome, Kaito.”

“I know, right! We should go chasing meteors sometime, there are showers every year.”

“I’d like that,” she says.

Once the whiskey has run dry, they both stand up.

“I should probably get back,” Kaito says.

“Yeah. Want me to walk you?”

“No way! It’s ages, and I’d never forgive myself if I made you walk back home alone.”

“Will you text me when you get home safe?”

“Of course!”

“Okay. Night, then.”

“Goodnight.”

He gives her one last hug, and they part ways. She waits until she sees him disappear beyond the end of the street, before looking at the snowman one last time, and going inside. In her apartment, she changes into comfortable pyjamas stands on her balcony to have a cigarette. She doesn’t feel ready to sleep quite yet, so she stays outside, having one last drink and going through her cigarette packet faster than she’d be proud to admit. She flicks through her phone, waiting for something to happen, but nothing does; she can’t get to sleep until she knows that Kaito is home safe. When, finally, he texts her, she breathes a sigh of relief.

 **< From Kaito Momota: 01:02> **home safe!!! can i still say merry christmas?? merry post-christmas!!! it’s like 1am :D love u lots

She reads this message over and over, playing in her mind all the things she could possibly say in response. He seems like the kind of guy who tells everyone that he loves them, so it isn’t a big deal, but Maki doesn’t really say that to just anybody.

 **< To Kaito Momota: 01:05> **Glad to hear you’re safe. My friend told me today that I should tell the people I appreciate that they’re special to me. So, I appreciate you. Thanks for tonight.

 **< From Kaito Momota: 01:06> **appreciate u too!! goodnight maki roll <3

 **< To Kaito Momota: 01:06> **Goodnight. Sleep well. Merry Christmas :-)

She walks back inside her apartment, locks her balcony door, and smiles to herself. Once she’s put her phone on charge, she gets into bed, and readjusts her pillows so that she has something to cuddle up to as she falls quickly asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Fun fact: Kaito's space origin story is actually the story of how I started to love space (except I saw a meteor shower with my dad, not my granddad). And the little match girl was a story I used to love as a child!
> 
> Merry Christmas, if you celebrate, and happy holidays! Remember to drink responsibly, and never to drink and drive. The holiday season is a time of fun, so look out for yourself. And, if you're feeling a bit sad because your Christmas isn't living up to the perfect season that it's made out to be by the media, my twitter is open for anyone to pop in and have a chat [here](https://twitter.com/rantaroamamiii).
> 
> Also, I listened to a song by an artist who I thought was pretty cool when I was younger, and I thought that it reminded me a little of Maki in this fic. It's called 'Last Night' by Lucy Spraggan, if you're interested!
> 
> Anyway, thank you for reading and, as always, have a wonderful day! Merry Christmas :D


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rantaro invites Maki and their mutual work friends to hear his friend Kaede play piano at a high-end bar for New Year's Eve.

The post-Christmas blur passes Maki by like a haze of days that don’t truly exist. They all blur into one, of waking up and eating the leftover Christmas dinner that Angie brought round, and of leaving her house only to buy more cigarettes and whiskey. It’s not that she _likes_ doing nothing all the time, she just takes this tiny period of a few days, once a year, to recharge and prepare for another twelve months of compartmentalising herself and existing in some sort of limbo.

She laughs bitterly to herself when she thinks that her life is much like a perpetual post-Christmas liminal state.

Still, as much as she’s disinterested in Christmas as a whole, she always finds herself quite enjoying New Year. Once she looks past the falsities of resolutions and the meaninglessness search for some semblance of anything romantic in a midnight kiss, she enjoys wiping the slate clean every once in a while. Not that she has to wait for New Year to do this; it’s just nice to feel justified in deep cleaning her apartment and cutting contacts from her phone’s address book.

Although she enjoys New Year, she’s only ever seen it in alone. Before this, her friends have been few and far between, and the relationships that she’s held with them have been superficial and have quickly dissolved. She would never say that she particularly _minds_ this having happened, but some part of her thinks that the people she’s currently close to are different somehow.

Himiko, Angie, Gonta, Rantaro, Shuichi, _Kaito._ Oh, fuck it, she may as well throw Kokichi into the mix as well; he makes her laugh sometimes, and he’s slyly clever enough for her to admire him a little, in a strange, disconnected way.

This little group of people, not all connected to each other, but all connected to _Maki,_ make her feel like she’s an important part of the world. As if, in some strange, inexplicable way, the atoms that formed all of these people were born from the same dying star; not that she knows how space works, or if that’s even possible. Her mind tells her to ask Kaito, and she smiles at the thought, knowing that he’d probably spend at least an hour going off on various different tangents.

_“It’s strange,”_ she thinks, _“how my mind always comes back to him.”_

Normally, she’d push away this thought and bury it deep within her psyche, but she lets herself mull on it for a little while longer. Perhaps it’s the post-Christmas nothingness getting to her head and making her thoughts of company a little more prominent, but thinking about Kaito seems different than anything she’s ever felt. She wouldn’t call it love, or even a strong affection; she doesn’t want to name this feeling - there’s the idea in her mind that a name takes away power from something unexplainable, and she wants things to stay this way for as long as she can exist in limbo.

For the first time in her life, she’s stopped treading the border between _acquaintances_ and _friends_ , and it terrifies her, and she finds it beautiful.

The days continue to pass her by, and she willingly lets them do so, finding herself caught between wanting to do something and enjoying the muted comfort of solitude. Normally, such a choice wouldn’t even cross her mind - she’s no stranger to her own company, but now, she feels empty when she realises how cold her hands are and how she’s got enough space to sprawl out all over her bed. Something has quite evidently changed, but she isn’t ready to confront exactly _what._

* * *

 

New Year’s Eve comes, and the morning heralds Maki with light snowfall. She still sits on her balcony; it’s partially covered so she can avoid getting caught in the weather, and she doesn’t mind the cold - it’s actually somewhat nice to reminisce on times that she’s never quite had. Her phone vibrates in her pocket.

**< From Rantaro Amami: 16:17> **are you free tonight?

**< To Rantaro Amami: 16:17> **Yeah, why?

**< From Rantaro Amami: 16:19> **cool cause i hooked my friend kaede up with a spot to play piano at the really cool bar in the henderson-ville hotel and she’s on until like 1am and i wanna give her a huge audience so do you wanna come? shuichi, kaito, and kokichi are coming so i wanna get the whole gang involved!!!

**< To Rantaro Amami: 16:20> **So we’re a gang now?

**< From Rantaro Amami: 16:21> **yeah like an office smoke squad or some shit

**< To Rantaro Amami: 16:21> **That’s definitely not what our gang name would be. But it sounds fun! What time?

**< From Rantaro Amami: 16:22> **like eight? and bring your friends!!! i want the bar to be packed for kaede

**< To Rantaro Amami: 16:22> **I’m not even going to ask how you booked an all night spot at the Henderson-Ville Hotel when it’s so expensive for a night there……

**< From Rantaro Amami: 16:23> **and i’m gonna pretend that you’re not coming purely because kaito is there. touché?

**< To Rantaro Amami: 16:24> **You’re wrong and I hate you

**< From Rantaro Amami: 16:24> **course you do. see you at eight <3

**< To Rantaro Amami: 16:25> **See you soon!

Maki puts her phone back in her pocket after texting Himiko, Angie, and Gonta to invite them, too. She shakes her head, silently pushing aside her thoughts about what Rantaro just said. It seems like the universe is pushing her, kicking and screaming, towards someone who, to be honest, she wouldn’t exactly _mind_ being a little closer than friends with. But that thought is never allowed to leave her head; she won’t let it.

Still, there’s no harm in dressing up a little, not just for Kaito, but because it’s New Year’s Eve and she’s going to a fancy hotel. And she does have a beautiful red dress that she’s never worn. _And_ she has time to kill before setting off, so she may as well do something nice and unusual with her hair and makeup. She doesn’t want to stand out, but she has a feeling that tonight, she doesn’t just want to be _Maki-from-the-office._

She’s getting ready, when the radio starts playing an acoustic cover of a song she’s heard, but can’t quite place. The moment she catches the lyrics saying things like _‘violence of loneliness’_ and _‘unease of surrounded seclusion’_ , she swats at the radio dial until she tunes it to a different station.

By half past seven, she’s waiting at the front of her apartment block, smoking a cigarette, looking out for her taxi to arrive. She’s wearing a light jacket - she doesn’t want to bother Kaito again by stealing his like she did before - but still she’s shaking a little, and she blames it on the cold night air. Finally, her taxi pulls up, and she gives the address before texting Rantaro to say that she’s on her way.

When she arrives, Rantaro is standing at a table by the entrance, glass of champagne in his hand, laughing lightly at something that Gonta has just said. She realises that Himiko and Angie must also be there, and wonders how long they’ve been here waiting for her - not that she feels guilty. They have each other, just like Shuichi has Kokichi, and Rantaro has, well, _everyone._ Before her mind wanders to who exactly she has, she cuts off that thought and walks over to join everyone at the table. A quick glance tells her that everybody apart from Kaito is there; her face falls slightly, but she hides her expression quickly.

“Hey!” Rantaro says.

“Hey, guys,” she replies, and the rest of them greet her.

“Don’t worry,” Kokichi says, “Kaito _is_ coming. His taxi cancelled so he’s called another. He’ll be here in, like, ten minutes.”

“I didn’t notice,” Maki tells him. Kokichi merely smiles, which makes Maki feel slightly embarrassed and strangely helpless.

She takes Himiko up to the bar and orders a non-alcoholic strawberry cocktail and a whiskey. Since Tenko’s accident, Himiko only really drinks alcohol in her own house, and she prefers to stay sober in bars - which, Maki believes, is reasonable, but it’s obvious that Tenko’s death will never leave her. She knows that Himiko isn’t uncomfortable with her friends drinking, which is why she doesn’t feel bad or think twice about ordering something alcoholic for herself.

Midway through some trivial conversation at the table, something draws Maki’s eyes to the door of the room, where Kaito is walking inside. Her eyes widen; her lips part.

He’s wearing a suit - albeit a casual one - and his hair is slightly wet with snowflakes. His cheeks are flushed red, a beautiful, burning kind of colour that’s accentuated by the fact that he’s smiling widely. When he spots her, his entire face lights up, and he walks quickly to stand by her.

“Maki Roll!”

“Kaito,” she smiles, “how are you?”

“I’m good! I had to wait outside for a second taxi ‘cause my first one cancelled, so I look a bit…out of place in such a fancy joint like this.”

“You look,” she bites the inside of her lip to control her expression, “handsome.”

“Thanks! You look beautiful as always.”

“Stop flirting,” Kokichi says, “we’re not all straight.”

“Actually,” Maki glares at him, “I’m bi.”

“Yo, me too!” Kaito says.

Like children who’ve just outsmarted an adult, they high-five under the table. Kaito flashes Maki a smile, and she returns in kind, taking his hand as they go to the bar together. When they get back, they’re so enamoured in conversation that Maki doesn’t realise that the rest of the room is quieter than before.

“Kaede’s about to start,” Rantaro says.

Maki takes a seat next to Kaito as they listen to Kaede play her first piece. For a moment, Maki closes her eyes and allows herself to become overwhelmed with emotion. She never normally processes more than one thing at a time; she’s focused and determined, and this reflects in her usual cold demeanour. But, listening to Kaede play, and sitting next to Kaito, she feels the walls that she’s built crumble around her - and she enjoys their destruction. The music is soft, circling, drawing melodies from the air in the room and wrapping them around her in comfort; she’s always had a slight propensity for being calm when listening to classical music, but she normally listens to it in her apartment, alone; this is different - here, she feels safe, like being alone is no longer an inevitability, but a choice that she doesn’t have to make.

As Kaede finishes, the room erupts into applause. It’s such a contrast to the silence, but Maki is glad; looking at the girl at the piano smile is a beautiful sight - she doesn’t know her, but she’s happy that Kaede is receiving the attention she deserves for being such a wonderful pianist.

One of the bar staff brings out a microphone and a stand, and another woman, in a long, figure-hugging black dress, stands next to Kaede.

“Who’s that?” Kaito asks.

“That’s Kirumi Tojo,” Rantaro replies, “she almost exclusively sings in closed events, stuff like dinner parties in France for diplomats and billionaires. But she’s doing a one time gig here, tonight.”

“Holy shit,” Maki whispers, “how the hell did you book _her?”_

“I told you,” Rantaro laughs, “I have money, and I know people. Besides, I’ve known Kaede since we were kids, and since she was like seventeen, she’s wanted to play alongside Kirumi. You can’t put a price on making your friends happy.”

The night burns on, and everyone in the bar sits contently, listening to the melodic voice of Kirumi and the beautiful accompaniment of Kaede’s piano. As the clock ticks onto eleven, Kaede stops playing and Kirumi speaks softly into the microphone.

“Thank you all for listening to us tonight,” she says, “we’ll be taking a short break. We’ll resume at fifteen minutes to midnight. And may I just extend my deepest gratitude to my wonderful pianist, Kaede Akamatsu.”

Maki watches as Kaede blushes bright red, and they both exit the bar gracefully into a back room. Regular pop music floods the room from overhead speakers, and gradually, everyone in the bar gets up to dance. Before Maki even stands, Rantaro grabs Kaito by the hand and starts dancing with him - it looks ridiculous, but she realises that they’re both a little drunk, and they look happy, so she can’t blame them. She watches Kokichi pull an evidently anxious Shuichi up, and Angie and Gonta follow suit. Himiko, sat fiddling nervously with her hair, is the only one left alongside Maki at the table.

She offers her hand to Himiko, who graciously takes it. They move onto the dancefloor together. For a moment, Maki isn’t sure what to do, but when she sees Himiko anxiously smile, she just holds both of her hands as they start swaying from side to side. It’s clumsy, a little awkward, but Himiko is smiling wider now, and Maki would continue like this forever to preserve that.

Eventually, as the music gets more upbeat, they end up jumping up and down with no real pattern to their movements. Their laughter is a perfect accompaniment to the rhythm, and Maki barely notices when the music fades out; she only places her feet firmly on the ground once the room is in silence.

“For the last fifteen minutes before New Year,” Kirumi says gently, “Kaede and I are going to resume our performance. After this, there’ll be a smaller break, after which we will continue to perform until 1am.”

Kaede starts playing a song that Maki immediately recognises; _Piano Man._ It’s a song she listens to sometimes, on her balcony, and hearing the first few notes immediately calms her heartbeat - she hadn’t realised until just now exactly how fast her heart was pumping. She begins to slow dance with Himiko; it’s completely and utterly sweet to hear Himiko softly laugh because they’re both bad dancers. The songs continue in this slow fashion, and Maki feels content to just dance with Himiko until the year collapses behind her.

* * *

 

Quickly glancing at the clock, Maki sees that it’s three minutes to midnight. Kaede begins to play an old Elvis song - the one that Maki always skips when it comes on, because it’s about losing control and falling in love, and she can never relate to that - and she’s about to resume dancing with Himiko when she sees Rantaro approach.

He, in a joking, gentlemanly fashion, bows and extends his hand to Himiko.

“May I? Have this dance, I mean,” he says.

Himiko laughs, looking at Maki and shrugging her shoulders. She gives a little smile and takes Rantaro’s hand. Maki knows that they’re both gay, but Rantaro has little sisters, and she supposes that he’s always seen the new year in playing the big brother role. This thought is confirmed when she sees Himiko, her face wide in a grin, being lifted up a few inches off the ground and slowly spun round by Rantaro. As they turn, she catches Rantaro’s eye; he winks at her, and subtly nods his head at Kaito, who’s now stood on his own.

_“Fuck it,”_ she thinks, as she walks over to him. He’s looking at the ground a little awkwardly when she approaches, and she has to gently brush his hand to get him to meet her gaze.

“Dance?”

“Yeah,” he says.

Slow-dancing with Kaito is an experience that she finds herself enjoying from the second it begins. He’s not great at it, but he’s not _terrible_ either; it’s all the same to her, when she’s resting her head slightly on his chest and feeling her own heartbeat against the very bones of her ribcage. Her eyes are closed, but when Kirumi sings _‘I can’t help falling in love with you’_ , she opens them slightly to watch Kaito’s face. Barely realising that the song is now finished, she stays content in her position until the countdown begins. By the time ‘five, four, three’ rings in her ears, she’s looking around to find her friends, unsure of how to ring in the New Year now that she’s not alone. 

Everyone cheers when midnight hits.

Maki watches as Kokichi quite literally sweeps Shuichi off his feet, pulling him into a kiss that she suspects is less a show of affection, and more to make the rest of the bar stare at them both. But Maki has other things to watch, namely how Gonta asks for Angie’s permission to kiss her on the cheek, and then immediately blushes and hides his face once he’s done so. Her eyes dart over to Rantaro and Himiko, who are merely hugging, but the height difference between them makes her heart practically melt - she can tell when Himiko is happy, and she knows that she isn’t particularly _sad_ right now. She lifts her arms above her head and cheers with delight when Rantaro lifts her up and spins her around again; Maki smiles at the sight.

And then she’s looking back at Kaito, and her mind wanders to the thought she keeps having - that she always, somehow, comes back to him. He’s looking out of the corner of his eye, and one of his hands is behind his head; she’s never seen him so awkward, but part of her - _most of her_ \- finds it endearing. She gently puts one of her hands on his cheek, and he looks down at her, blushing. Standing on the tips of her toes, she watches him lean down, and then, before her mind can scream at her, she’s kissing him.

She’s kissing him. She’s _kissing_ him. _She’s kissing him._

And she’s enjoying it.

Were she thinking rationally, she would realise that most of the other pairs in the bar will have stopped kissing by now. Were she thinking logically, she would tell herself that this isn’t the kind of thing that ever ends happily for people like her. Were she thinking of anything but the feeling of Kaito’s soft lips against hers, she would have pulled away by now.

But she hasn’t.

She feels his hand, comparatively larger than hers, mimic her previous action as he places it softly on her cheek. Leaning into it, she wraps her arms around his neck and smiles mid-kiss, her chest bursting with emotion. So much emotion. _Too much emotion._

Suddenly, rationality and logic hit her with the full force of every heartbreak the world over.

_“Fuck,”_ she thinks, _“I can’t be doing this.”_

Happiness isn’t something she’s ever truly had before, and it’s haunting her now; she can’t tell whether this is truly happiness, or the elation that drowning victims feel in the oxygen-deprived moments when even the self-preservation of the human brain realises that they are beyond saving.

Her world, a world of heavily taped up fractures that took root from her childhood, shatters.

She pulls away, and when she sees Kaito’s shocked, confused face at such a sudden movement, she tears her eyes down to the floor and runs out of the bar and through the perfect glass doors of the hotel.

Her high heels click violently down the street as she runs until she’s out of breath. Still miles from home, she walks in the freezing cold, through the snow, vaguely knowing where she’s going, wishing that there was more alcohol in her system to keep her warm and keep her mind from focusing on the things that she’s thinking.

She passes a bar, and contemplates going inside for a drink on her own. Then she hears that the song playing inside is _Skinny Love_ , and she feels like she’s going to be sick. Running once more, she turns corner after corner until she falls over on her ankle and grazes her knees on the cold pavement. Gritting her teeth, she pushes herself up and barely looks at the blood prickling up from her cut skin before continuing to walk on. There’s a snowman, left abandoned in the front garden of a house with no lights on; instinctively, she walks up to it and slams her fist, hard, into the face. Having only ever made a snowman once - in a memory that she pushes aside - she has no real idea how tightly packed the snow is, and the only result of her anger is that her hand hurts and feels tight from the cold.

Pain doesn’t bother her. She wishes she had more of it, in fact. The thought of stepping out in front of a stray car captures her imagination for a moment, but then Himiko’s face burns itself into her mind, and she feels even sicker thinking about how selfish it would be of her to do that to her best friend.

So, she does the only thing she can do - she braves the cold, enjoys the pain of her knees and her knuckles and her mind, and finds herself back at her apartment.

As she’s getting changed into comfortable pyjamas, she throws her dress onto her laundry pile and sees the corner of Kaito’s t-shirt sticking out amongst her clothes. Deciding that she’ll deal with that tomorrow, she falls onto her bed and lets the release of sleep take her away from her mind.

* * *

 

For the entirety of the first day of the New Year, Maki stays in bed and smokes inside her apartment, thinking that maybe it would be a blessing in disguise if her landlord found out - then she’d have an excuse to skip town and start over somewhere that doesn’t hold so many pieces of fragile, broken, glass memories.

Unfortunately for her, the smoke clears quickly, and she has to go back to work the next day. The thought of facing everyone after she ran out of the bar like a teenage girl fills her stomach from bottom to top with an otherworldly sense of dread. Even more so than this, the thought of seeing _Kaito_ makes her feel an emotion that she can’t quite put her finger on.

When she arrives, she makes sure that she enters silently, earlier than everyone else. Instead of looking around her to see if anyone else is in already, she focuses on the tape that’s left on the walls where tinsel had previously been hanging; anything to distract her from the fact that she’ll be in the same building as Kaito again. Anything to distract her from the fact that she doesn’t know if that will be a bad or good thing.

Still, when she walks past Kaito’s cubicle, her eyes are inexplicably drawn to it. It stands in stark contrast to her own - his is filled with photographs and little ornaments, and a small desk Christmas tree that he evidently forgot to take down before he left for the holidays. Mustering up all of her crumpled willpower, she keeps moving and doesn’t look back until she’s reached her own cubicle.

Immediately, she sees the post-it notes that Kaito wrote for her. This is the one infinitesimal thing that sends her over the edge. Yesterday, she’d been justifying her actions by telling herself that she’s never had problems upsetting people before - she isn’t the type to feel guilt easily, not over something so unimportant - but seeing such a tiny display of basic kindness cracks this illusion as she watches, helpless. All she can think of is how Kaito has never done anything wrong, and yet she let him get close to her; she _knew_ that she was a bad person and she still, selfishly, let him believe that she was anything other than that. If he were anyone else, she’d call him an idiot for being so naïve with his belief in others, but she can’t even insult Kaito in her mind. The thought that she physically pulled herself away from what was, potentially, the only time she felt happiness in being close to another person, makes her want to scream.

Kaito doesn’t deserve that kind of treatment. Maki doesn’t deserve Kaito.

She sits in her cubicle and distracts herself with work for as long as she can before she needs a cigarette. It’s almost lunchtime, so she darts out of her cubicle to try and beat the midday rush of people in the smoking area. When she arrives there, she sees a mess of green hair, and tries to back away without being seen.

“No way,” Rantaro says from the smoking shelter, “get over here.”

“I-I…Rantaro, don’t.”

She sits across from him anyway. Something tells her that defying him would only prolong things.

“What the hell _happened_ on New Year’s Eve? One moment I’m dancing with Himiko and the next you’re running out of the bar.”

“Please, Rantaro, I…”

“Yeah, you kissed Kaito. Or he kissed you. Whatever, I don’t know. But fuck, Maki, what caused _that_ kind of reaction?”

“I just…ah, fuck. I can’t explain it. Let’s just say I’m avoiding him out of shame, not because he did anything wrong. Because he didn’t.”

“Avoiding him?” Rantaro asks, “Maki, he’s not even _in_ work today.”

“Wait, what?”

“Jesus, you really don’t know do you?”

“Know what? Know _what,_ Rantaro?” Maki asks, more than a hint of desperation in her voice.

“Listen, you can’t freak out, okay?”

“I already _am_ fucking freaking out, so just tell me!”

“Right, okay. Fuck. He’s fine now, by the way - thought I should start with that,” he says, and Maki visibly relaxes, but stiffens up again at the realisation that Kaito is fine _‘now’._

“What happened?”

“Well, after you left, Kokichi bought us all drinks. And, well, you know that me and Kaito were already pretty drunk. So it just went on from there, and next thing I know, some creep was coming onto Himiko. He wouldn’t leave her alone, so I was gonna go and get the manager, when Kaito just…dragged him outside. And they fought, like, badly. The guy ending up running off once it seemed like Kaito was getting the upper hand but…I mean, Kaito got it pretty bad.”

“Shit,” she says, “fuck. How are they both? Kaito and Himiko, I mean.”

“Oh, uh, Himiko is okay. She went home with the other two - Angie and Gonta, was it? But we were all stood outside the bar after it happened and Kaito was, like, bleeding and shit.”

“How is he now?”

“I had to take him to hospital. He’s home now, but he’s in a bad shape. Broken nose, bust lip, bruises _everywhere._ ”

“God fucking damn it.”

“Yeah,” Rantaro says, taking a drag of his cigarette.

The rest of the day, Maki is a ball of nervous energy. She needs the work day to finish so she can go and apologise to Himiko. Half an hour before she’s due to leave, she silently sneaks away from her desk and gets in her car - some things are more important than a paycheque and keeping her boss happy.

* * *

 

When she pulls up outside Himiko’s, she forgets her previous routine of entering slowly and quietly, and she ends up in front of Himiko’s door before she even really realises it; she shouts a greeting and, upon receiving affirmation from inside, walks into Himiko’s bedroom.

“I’m so sorry,” she says before Himiko can even look up, “I was stupid. I shouldn’t have left.”

“Maki,” Himiko says, “hi!”

“Listen, I’m really, really sorry.”

“For what?”

“Leaving you in the bar. I heard what happened.”

“Oh, that! It’s nothing. If there’s anyone you should be apologising to, it’s Kaito. Watching him get beat up was a pain.”

Maki ignores how taken aback she is at what Himiko just said.

“Rantaro said…I mean, he implied…I thought it was a two way fight?”

“Eh, it was at first. But the other guy threw some pretty nasty punches.”

“Fuck,” Maki says.

“Have you been to see him?”

“No, why?”

“You probably should. I’ve been worried about you since the other night, ‘cause I saw you run off, you know. And you seemed like you were really in love with him when you were kissing, and then you just…left.”

“Look, I know, I know,” Maki says, “I just…”

“Listen. I’m pretty intuitive,” Himiko replies, “it’s like magic. I can tell what people are feeling. And when I saw you with Kaito, you seemed…happy. You should at least go and see him.”

“I came to apologise to _you,_ though,” Maki says.

“And you’ve apologised, I’ve said it’s okay, and now you need to go and see Kaito.”

“No I don’t.”

“Yes, you do,” Himiko says, “because when I’m sad, you always tell me just the right thing I need to do. And I trust you. So if you trust me, it’ll all work out.”

“Fine. But I don’t expect it’ll go well.”

“Maki,” Himiko sighs, “y’know when Kaito was all beat up outside the bar?”

Maki nods.

“And there was blood everywhere,” she continues, and Maki bites her lip as she thinks of Kaito in pain, “and we were all standing around him. He kept smiling, making jokes, asking me if I was okay. I think you need someone like that in your life.”

“I’m going to see if he’s okay,” Maki replies, “but that’s all.”

Himiko smiles. With a heavy heart, truly believing that she’s ruined things beyond repair, Maki gets back in her car.

* * *

 

After pulling up outside Kaito’s apartment, she stands by the door for five minutes, smoking a cigarette, terrified to text him. She knows that she has to, but she can’t bring her hands to work properly. Every time she wants to pull her phone out of her pocket, a lump builds in her throat and she can’t bear to move. She goes in this strange back and forth, between wanting to talk to Kaito immediately, and wanting to move away and change her name, for an endless cacophony of moments, until she’s shocked out of introspection when she hears her name being called. Looking around, she sees nobody that she knows, but she hears it again, and realises that the voice is coming from above her. Bracing herself, she looks up.

Kaito is looking down from his balcony, an almost extinguished cigarette in his hand. He’s wearing a pair of glasses, and he’s only three floors up, but he’s still squinting down at her.

“Is that you?” Kaito shouts.  
  
“Yeah,” she raises her voice to the minimum level it can be for her to be heard.

“Hold on a sec, I’ll buzz you up!”

He goes back inside his apartment and then the outside door unlocks itself. She makes her way to the third floor and finds it strange to be walking to Kaito’s apartment alone; but she has to apologise, just like Himiko said. She can’t even imagine how annoyed he is with her irrationality.

She knocks on his door.

“Come in,” he shouts, and she pushes it open. When she walks into his living room, she sees up close just how hurt he is. Of course, he’s smiling at her, and she wonders why he’s doing that - the only possibility she can see is that he hates her forever, so smiling is just a cruel way to make her feel worse.

Before she can even say anything, however, she surveys how he looks. His nose is bloodied with a huge scab across the bridge, and the whole thing looks a little offset - evidently, the broken bone still needs time to heal. His left eye is blackened, and his cheek underneath it is swelling with a thick, discoloured bruise. An eternity ago, she was kissing his lips; she remembers how soft they felt, and it makes her heart sink to see how swollen, red, and still stained with blood they are. The cuts all over his face are fresh; aside from the one on his nose, they haven’t fully scabbed over, and she wants to kiss him again and make all of his injuries hers.

“I just…I wanted to…I’m sorry, Kaito,” she says, “I was stupid.”

“What?”

“I ran off. For no good reason. And then this happened because you were defending _my_ best friend in _my_ absence.”

“Maki Roll,” he says, trying to smile, but faltering with a wince that doesn’t go unnoticed by Maki, “I’m the one who should be apologising. It was me who made you run away. I’m sorry.”

“No, Kaito, it’s not you. It’s me, I’m not…good with emotions, and stuff. But it’s much nicer being with you than with…anyone else, really, except Himiko.”

“Oh, wow. Thank you,” he says, sincerely.

“And it’s my fault that you got beat up. So I need to apologise, and -”

“Maki Roll! Stop apologising. I make my own choices, I choose what I do and what I believe in, and if I get into a fight, it’s because I _choose to._ ”

“But -”

“Besides,” he says, “I wouldn’t have let you fight that guy anyway. I’d feel like less of a man if I did.”

“Himiko’s _my_ responsibility, and I let her down.”

“You’ve gotta stop blaming yourself for everything, and you’ve definitely gotta stop carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders. Just take care of yourself first, okay? It’s obvious that you don’t do that enough.”

“It’s…obvious?”

“I’ve seen you at work, even before we were friends. You sometimes look so goddamn _tired._ And I can tell it’s because you put too much pressure on yourself.”

“I…I don’t know.”

“Trust me, Maki Roll.”

“I do,” she says, surprising herself, “I do trust you. And I owe you an explanation for why I’m…like this. But I just can’t. Not yet.”

“You don’t owe me anything. You don’t have to tell anyone _anything_ personal. You’re not just some burden-carrying guardian angel for the world around you. You’re a human, like anyone else, and you need to treat yourself like you treat everyone else.”

“Like I treat everyone else? Kaito, I _left_ my best friend alone in a bar, I got you beaten up, I -”

“Oh, Maki Roll, listen to yourself. Himiko had Angie and Gonta to get her home, I made my own decision to get in that fight. None of it is your fault, you just blame yourself because it’s easier than admitting that you can’t be in control of the world around you.”

She’s stunned into silence by this. Not because he’s offended her, but because his words resonate with her so much that she’s unsure of how to respond, other than to change the subject.

“Is there anything I can do for you? You’re obviously in pain,” she says, and he opens his mouth to talk, “and you’re going to try and change the subject, aren’t you?”

Now, Kaito is the one who’s silent.

“I think the advice you just gave me applies to you, too,” she tells him, “because you’re so kind to everyone. I think you do it because you see yourself as a vessel for other people to improve themselves through. And that’s why you’re not admitting that you’re in pain - because that would mean that you’re less efficient at helping others.”

“I…I guess,” he says.

“So, please, if you want me to stop apologising, do one thing for me. Be honest. Are you in pain?”

He nods.

“Do you want me to bring your duvet from your room?”

He nods again.

She leaves, and returns again with his duvet and two pillows from his room. Taking care not to disturb any of his injuries, she puts the duvet over him. His television is on standby, and she gestures towards it, asking without words whether he wants her to put something on. As if he’s finally opening up about being in pain, he simply nods his head once more. She reasons that talking hurts his lip.

She passes him the remote and he opens up Netflix, flicking through until he finds _Star Trek: The Original Series._ He resumes playing from where he must have left off last time he was watching, and then they sit together for half an hour, watching a world wherein new galaxies and planets are only a journey away. Sneaking glances at him, she smiles slightly to see how much he’s focusing on and enjoying the episode.

“I always wanted to be like Kirk,” he says.

“I think you’re pretty close.”

“You can be my Bones.”

“Does that make Shuichi your Spock?”

He laughs.

“An extra-emotional Spock, maybe,” he replies.

They sit together for a while, until Maki notices that Kaito’s blinking is turning a lot more into micro-sleeping as time passes. She gently nudges him.

“You’re tired, I’m gonna go,” she says.

“Mm,” he replies, only half-awake.

“Will you come and lock the door after me?”

He nods, and tries to get up. During the fight a few nights ago, he must have been hit in the stomach, because he seems to be struggling to pull himself off the sofa; she sees this, and holds onto his arm, doing most of the work to bring him to his feet.

At the door, she lingers in the threshold for a moment, darting her eyes around before mustering the courage to look Kaito in the eyes.

“Can I hug you?” Maki asks.

“Of course, but only if you want to.”

This is all the confirmation she needs; she gently wraps her arms around him, trying hard not to disturb any of his injuries. Tentatively, he follows suit. She wonders if he’s worried that she’ll run away again, and this thought hits her deep in the pit of her stomach, especially because right now, she never wants to let go.

As they say goodbye, she looks once more at him.

“You should wear glasses more often,” she says, “they suit you.”

“Thanks,” he laughs awkwardly, “I think they make me look nerdy. But, y’know, it’s kinda hard to put contacts in when your face is fucked.”

“I suppose,” she replies, “and listen, don’t push yourself to get back to work any sooner than you need.”

“I was gonna come in tomorrow.”

“If you do that, I’ll personally put you in my car and drive you back home.”

“Fine. But I’ll be in the day after.”

“Just come in when you’re feeling better, okay? Don’t try and be a hero. It’ll help nobody, but it’ll hurt you.”

He looks at her with an expression that she can’t quite place.

“You’re right,” he says.

“Bye, Kaito. Get some rest.”

“You too,” he smiles at her, and she notices how his lip splits open a tiny bit further and he tries to hide the blood that springs up. Seeing him in pain is something she hopes she never has to see again.

Once the door is shut, she makes her way back outside. As she leaves the apartment block, she phones Rantaro; he picks up after only one ring.

“What’s up?”

“Rantaro,” she says, “I need you to be honest with me. Can I come over?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Count all the song references in this, haha. Anyway - the next chapter is going to be a little shorter, it's going to be a 'filler chapter' of sorts, but it's still important to the plot. I'm doing it this way because I was initially going to write the events of next chapter into this chapter, but so much happened this chapter, I didn't want to overwhelm the plot too quickly!
> 
> I hope you're enjoying this so far. If you're reading it, I can't thank you enough. I appreciate you all. And I hope you all had a wonderful holiday season!
> 
> As always, have a fantastic day :D


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maki has an honest talk with Rantaro about her feelings. Doing this drags up memories from her past that she'd rather not think of.

Maki arrives at Rantaro’s apartment, pushing aside the feeling in her gut of something irrevocably changing forever. She looks up at the building; from the size and grandeur of these penthouse apartments, it’s evident to anybody that the people living here have money to burn. It’s still strange to her that Rantaro is so flippant with his inheritance, but there’s nothing wrong with it; especially when she knows that he just wants to live a fun life – she can’t empathise, but she’s beginning to _get it._ The idea of simply doing something because it feels good is a thought that’s slowly creeping its way into her heart.

And that’s why she’s here.

Rantaro buzzes her up and she sighs heavily as she enters his apartment. She hasn’t even got time to appreciate the beauty of it all; the balcony that’s as big as her own apartment, the vintage chaise longue, the marble kitchen with embedded lights. She just flops down onto the sofa and closes her eyes.

“That bad, huh?” Rantaro says.

“I don’t…I don’t know,” she replies.

“Let me guess, you saw Kaito?”

“Yeah, but…that’s not…I mean…”

“Come _on_ Maki, you seemed pretty desperate on the phone. And that whole ‘can you be honest with me?’ thing – there’s something up.”

“Look,” she sighs, “I know. I know.”

“So, you’ve finally realised, huh?”

“Realised?”

“That you like Kaito.”

“What?”

“Oh come on, it’s obvious. That kiss, the way you are in work. You’ve _changed,_ Maki, and it seems for the better.”

“I…”

“Come on,” he says, “let’s get high.”

“Is that your solution to everything?”

“Pretty much. Hasn’t failed me yet.”

“Sure, whatever. I assume you have some?”

Rantaro laughs and walks over to his kitchen. Pulling open a draw, he takes out a small bag of weed and comes back into the living room. He sits, as Maki watches, and rolls the weed with tobacco into a neat spliff. Pausing for a moment, he sets it down on the coffee table and walks over to his fire alarm. He covers it with aluminium foil and a plastic bag, then sits next to Maki and pulls out a lighter.

“So,” he takes a few drags and then passes it along to her, “how was he?”

“Uh,” she says, not quite stuttering, but still stumbling over her words; she puffs on the spliff to calm her down, “bad. Really fucking bad.”

“Yeah, I expected as much. He got pretty badly beaten up.”

These words, although not spoken by Maki, seem to catch in her throat. She gasps for air, silently. The thought of Kaito, hurt, in pain, _suffering alone,_ destroys her fragile insides; there’s nothing more that she wishes than to take his pain and make it her own. Although she doesn’t understand why she thinks this, it doesn’t diminish her wish. Thinking too hard on this, as she’s prone to do, makes her choke up.

Before she knows it, she’s crying – genuinely, truly _crying –_ and it’s an alien feeling to her. Sure, she’s cried before, but in the confines of her room, when the dark creeps around her and wipes her tears, when the thick, piercing chill of night pulls her breath from her lungs and she sobs, unheard, when the smooth terror of being completely alone wraps its smoking fingers around her heart and squeezes until she bursts inside herself. This – this is different.

Within a moment, Rantaro has his arm around her, and she’s smoking again, taking deep inhales of tobacco and weed in the intermissions between her tears. For some reason, she can’t get Kaito off her mind, and her entire body _burns_ with an ache that only comes when she tries to push the thoughts of him away.

“I get it,” Rantaro says, “I get it.”

“I-I,” she chokes out, “I can’t _do this.”_

“I know. You can’t keep pretending forever.”

“Pretending?”

“I know, ‘cause I did it when I was with Kokichi. Pretended to be something I wasn’t.”

“What do you mean?”

“I pretended I was like, this cool guy who was totally okay with being tossed around by lies and deception and fucked up mind games. But I wasn’t. And honestly, it destroyed me from the moment I realised that I was living a lie, right up to the moment I left.”

“But I’m not dating anyone.”

“I know. But you _are_ lying to yourself, and that’s gonna kill you. You don’t have to be honest with me, but god, Maki, at least be honest with yourself.”

“I-I can’t.”

She cries again. Something about today is just dragging her emotions through the rain that stays still; stagnant after a storm. Despite trying her hardest to push these emotions back down into the gutter, she can’t seem to break them down enough for them to fit into the easily manageable slots of the falsity that she calls her life.

Rantaro pulls her into a hug. They keep passing the spliff between them until it almost puts itself out; still, they sit in silence. Maki lets tears run down her face, unapologetically, and Rantaro lets her rest her head on his chest as she controls her sadness by feeling the stability of her friend.

“He just looked…so terrible,” she says suddenly. Rantaro looks down at her; she’s finally looking up at him, and her tears have subsided a little.

“I know.”

“And I need to know – how bad was it? Like, initially.”

“You really want to know?’

“Yeah. I have to.”

“Okay. Yeah. Sure. He was…pretty bad. I mean, he ran into that fight like it was the end of the world, and it kinda – well, it wasn’t exactly _fair._ The other guy was evidently better at this shit.”

“Fuck. I feel so bad.”

“Don’t. It was his stupid idea.”

“Don’t call Kaito stupid,” Maki says, “he’s got good intentions. That’s all that matters.”

“Yeah,” Rantaro says, lighting two regular cigarettes now; he passes one to Maki, “you’re right. He’s a good guy.”

“And that’s the problem.”

“Huh?”

“He’s a good guy, and it’s so damn hard to hate him. It would be so much easier if I just didn’t…”

“If you didn’t _what?”_

“If I didn’t like him this much! Fine, there,” she says, “but if you tell a soul, I’ll fucking kill you.”

Rantaro smirks, and drags his finger across his lips, motioning zipping them up.

“So,” he says, “what happened when you went round to his?”

“Oh,” she replies, “he apologised. Which made me feel really bad. ‘Cause, y’know, I liked kissing him, and I just…god, it feels so stupid. I just don’t feel like I deserve that kind of intimacy. Especially from…”

“Especially from someone you like?”

“Y-Yeah. I guess.”

“So did you tell him that?”

“No, I – I told him that he had nothing to apologise for, but that’s it.”

“And why did you tell him that?”

“Because he genuinely _didn’t_ have anything to apologise for. And I wanted to explain it all to him – the whole commitment thing and feeling like I don’t deserve him – but I just couldn’t. Rantaro, I just…couldn’t.”

“Why?”

“I, uh,” Maki pauses; she feels like she’s on trial, “I just…I don’t know. I want to be _normal,_ I want to be able to kiss him and stuff like that, but whenever I get too close to anyone, they leave or get hurt and I just _can’t_ do that to him.”

“You know that’s not true, right?”

“What?”

“Well…I haven’t left or got hurt, have I? And we’re close.”

“But you understand. You get it. You know what it’s like to lose…you know what it’s like to have no parents, to feel like the world is abandoning you one person at a time.”

“You know Kaito doesn’t have parents either?”

“Huh?”

“Yeah. They died, not recently, but not when he was a kid, either. He never told me how. He’s more intuitive than you give him credit for, y’know.”

“Oh. I…didn’t know.”

“Yeah, he’s pretty quiet about it.”

“I can’t imagine Kaito ever being quiet,” she laughs, but it’s a sad laugh, the kind of bitter exhale of air that comes from an awkward revelation.

“So, all I’m saying is, he’s not just the optimistic idiot that everyone thinks he is. If you give him more credit, you might feel better.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Maki says, “but still, I don’t know how to do that. I don’t know how to trust people. And, _fuck,_ I ran away from him like a goddamn teenage girl.”

Rantaro thinks for a moment.

“Want a drink? I think we both need one,” he says. Maki nods. He walks to the kitchen, pulling out a bottle of fine-aged whiskey from a cupboard; he puts two large ice cubes in two beautiful – Maki suspects handmade – glasses and pours the whiskey over them. Handing one to her, he takes a large drink out of his own.

“Maybe,” he says, “you were, like, _metaphorically_ running away from your feelings for him. ‘Cause it seems like something you don’t want to confront, really.”

“You’re probably right,” Maki replies, “but I need to be much more drunk and high to even deal with this conversation.”

“I can do that.”

A couple more spliffs later, Maki and Rantaro sit on his balcony. Every time she looks up at the stars, her mind flashes back to Kaito, and her train of thought leads her from his soft, gentle lips, right up to the jarring image of seeing him bruised and bloody, still pretending that he’s okay. It’s a picture that’s burned into her mind. Seeing his bruises, his _smile,_ breaks her heart; and it’s not something she can come to terms with.

She’s unsure if she’s terrified of loving him, or terrified of losing him.

“So,” Rantaro says, “I have a theory.”

“Go on.”

“I think you and Kaito are more similar than you want to admit.”

“Really? How so?”

“Because you got scared of kissing him, and you ran away. But it’s, like, probable that he ran _into_ that fight because he was trying to deal with the same shit.”

“I don’t get it.”

“All I’m saying is that maybe he felt so bad because you ran away, he got into that fight knowing that he’d get beaten up. He’s that kind of person.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. He won’t show you that side of him, ‘cause he’s like, madly in love with you, but –”

“Hold the fuck up; no, he’s not.”

“Whatever, anyway, he’s got this weird thing with being a true man or some bullshit like that. He’s constantly gotta prove himself. So, I mean, he’s probably having a hard time dealing with his feelings for you, too.”

“Oh. I – uh – I didn’t know.”

“Yeah, it’s weird, You wouldn’t peg him as that kinda guy, but I guess he’s got just as many issues as the rest of us.”

“You went to the hospital with him,” Maki says, “right?”

“Yeah.”

“How was he there? I mean, like, what happened? I heard a little of it from Himiko but…it didn’t make me feel any better.”

“Well, when Himiko and everyone left, it was just me and him in this ambulance, and –”

“Shit, he was in a fucking ambulance?”

“I mean, we were all drunk, there’s no way any of us could have driven him. So, yeah.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah. But he was cool with it; he was laughing with Himiko and making jokes and all that usual shit that just screams ‘ _Kaito’._ But then when we got to the hospital, he was…different.”

“Different how?”

“He kept asking me if I thought you hated him. Like, his whole laughing and joking exterior just fucking crumbled and he was kind of a wreck; he thought he’d fucked up beyond belief. Honestly, I think he thought you like, _despised him_ or something.”

“Oh, god, no. Shit.”

“But I mean, if you’ve been to see him, he probably knows that’s not true now.”

“Still, I…fuck…I shouldn’t have…”

“You can’t change the past,” Rantaro says, “but you damn sure can try and control the present. Not in the way you usually do, when you’re so organised and reserved like you want the world to obey your schedule, just – oh, I don’t know – _go with it,_ yeah?”

“I suppose. How do you know all this shit, anyway?”

Rantaro laughs.

“I like getting to know real people, Maki.”

She thinks for a moment. There’s something quite _otherworldly_ about Rantaro; like he’s lived through this life before, knows all the cheat codes, knows exactly what to say. It’s not that he necessarily makes her feel better with useless positivity, but he makes her inspect the parts of herself that normally, she doesn’t confront, and this introspection helps her understand herself, and her situation, better.

“Thanks, Rantaro,” she says, “I should go. Y’know, work tomorrow and all that.”

“Yeah. Want me to call you a taxi?”

She laughs.

“Remember last time? Besides, I think a walk across town will do me some good. It’ll only take me a little over an hour.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, I’ll be safe.”

“I know you will.”

Rantaro gets up to show her to the door. As he opens it, he looks at her with an expression like he’s trying desperately to figure her out. Half of her wants to let him, but she reasons that doing so would be going against her entire principle of life, the strict discipline that she learned as a child, that tells her that she can’t – she simply _can’t –_ trust people.

So she leaves.

* * *

 

The wind is painful as she walks back to her apartment, nipping into her hands and face as she doesn’t even make an effort to cover them. There’s no point – she savours the pain, like she did back in the orphanage; she remembers her treatment there, and how freeing it felt to get away for the first _permanent_ time. Walking out of those doors, middle finger up, suitcase half empty with what little she owned – it’s a feeling she hasn’t matched since. Of course, she can’t dwell on this victorious memory for long, because the _what-comes-after_ makes her breath catch in her throat; the sleepless nights, living between places, relying on cheap alcohol to warm her through the night. It’s not something she wants to think about ever again, despite the fact that it only happened a few years ago.

The time between leaving the orphanage at age sixteen and finding her feet in this office job at age twenty-two is a blur. Not in the sense that she doesn’t remember it, but in the sense that she merely can’t comprehend how she lost six years of her life wasting away like a ghost in the cold, running away from everyone who tried to help her. Once the illusion that she could survive on her own had dissipated into just another empty hole in her stomach, it was only a matter of time before she swallowed her pride like it would give her some sustenance, and then she had sought help from charities and shelters.

It's not something she wants to think about any more. The cold bites, but at least she’s wearing a coat. _At least she has someplace to go._

When she arrives outside her apartment, she hurries inside the building before the cold can catch up with her and drag her further back into her own memories.

She takes the stairs two steps at a time, as if she’s the final girl in a low-budget horror film, running from an unknown assailant. When she reaches her door, she forces herself inside with the key still in the lock; she pulls it out quickly and slams the door shut. Locking it, and locking it again, she has to check that she’s safe.

And she has to know that this is real.

Realising that she hasn’t done this routine for months, she pushes aside her guilt at falling back into her old coping mechanism and runs her hands along the walls.

 _“I can feel these. Therefore, they are real,”_ she thinks. Sometimes, she says this mantra out loud, reminding herself that she can hear her own voice; she exists, and she exists in a place that is nothing like the place she was before.

 _“‘Before’ is gone,”_ she tells herself, _“and it isn’t coming back.”_

The rough texture of the paint on the walls brings her back to reality as she traces her steps to her bedroom. Of course this would happen – life, as it stands, has become too overwhelming for her, it’s only natural that her brain would regress back into the worst time of her life, but she doesn’t exactly know _why._

Still, she changes into pyjamas and falls into bed, the firm mattress tethering her to reality as she falls into a restless sleep. Her last thought, before she succumbs, is that she hopes she doesn’t dream.

But nothing ever goes truly right for Maki Harukawa.

* * *

 

_She feels the wrinkles on her face as she sits in the cold. There’s a large piece of cardboard underneath her, doing as little as possible to protect her from the wet pavement as she shivers in the merciless rain. Chattering her teeth, she tries to rub her hands up and down her arms, her face, her neck; anything to keep her warm, but her efforts are in vain – she still feels as though every atom in the whole damned world is stabbing her individually. Embracing death, she closes her eyes, still running her hands over her entire body, feeling how old she’s become. Her hair, once black and youthful, long enough to hide her face when she was youthful, is raspy and white, much like her voice. Years of smoking and drinking have worn her down, and truthfully, she’s surprised that she made it to sixty years old._

_But this is no existence at all; she’d rather be dead. People pass by, ignoring her as if she were already a ghost. Her existence, in this exact moment, is at its peak moment of irrelevance, but she doesn’t enjoy it like she hoped she would; instead, she feels hollow, empty. She’s just an old woman, living on the streets, crying out for a bowl of hot soup or a knife to slit her throat with._

_A man passes by her, perhaps the same age, perhaps younger – she is unsure of how she’s supposed to look; she knows that such a harsh life has aged her. His hair, although old, is faded purple, and he smiles at nothing in particular as he crosses the street towards her. Extending his hand, he pulls her to her feet._

_“I’ve waited years for you,” he says, “let’s go home.”_

_“H-Home?”_

_Suddenly – as if no journey was truly made – she’s standing in front of a warm fireplace, holding hands with the man from the street. She recognises him, somehow, like her mind is making connections beyond her comprehension, but she doesn’t care; she’s warm, every atom of her body is flooded with a feeling of careful gentleness. Looking up at the man, she leans into him, and watches the fire burn, but never die out._

* * *

 

She wakes up in a cold sweat, her pulse racing, her heart beating. As much as it affected her, the dream begins to fade from her memory, until she’s left only with a vague feeling of longing, and an impossible-to-ignore sense of extreme paranoia.

For the rest of the night, she runs her fingertips over her face, telling herself that she’s real.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading this chapter! It's shorter than the rest, because it's a little filler chapter, but I hope you enjoyed it nevertheless. This one is also dedicated to my wonderful friend Sy, who's always supportive of my writing, and we yell about kaimaki together all the time!
> 
> She also drew some wonderful art of this fic, which has made my life complete. You should check it out [here](https://twitter.com/10soyacchi/status/975558882570354690)!
> 
> Anyway, I hope you all have a wonderful day! Comments on this fic are very appreciated, so if you have the time, let me know what you thought :D


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maki finds herself stuck in a deep depression, brought on by her memories of the orphanage. She wants to turn to someone - she desperately wants to turn to Kaito - but she has to deal with the internal struggle of her feelings if she does this.

Maki finds the next month of her life to be encompassed by one, overarching thought; that recurring terror in her mind of being back in the orphanage, of doubting the reality in which she exists. There’s nothing she can really do, except come to terms with the fact that this is how her life will be for the foreseeable future – in the past, she’s lost entire months to the creeping darkness of this unusual depression, and even medication and therapy haven’t managed to extend their hand to bring her out of it. Not that she’s using any of those things any more, being dependent on anything ruins her, and she just self-medicates with alcohol, cigarettes, and avoidance.

And showers. Lots of boiling hot, skin-tearing showers, in which she scrubs every inch of herself until she feels at least somewhat like a new person. It’s a little luxury that she doesn’t yet take for granted, not after experiencing life without even the bare minimum, and she’s scared – primarily, that’s her emotion – of going back to how she was.

Work doesn’t distract her in the way it used to. Now, it reminds her of Rantaro, and Shuichi, and Kaito – all of the things that make, or made, her life good. She can’t stop thinking that her life must be an endless inferno of punishment; when things get too good, her mind beats her down until she realises that she doesn’t deserve happiness, and she sinks more into submission. Reasoning that, if she limits her own happiness, she’ll be less crushed when the inevitable happens and she loses it all, she retreats more into herself and exists on only the basic terms that anyone can exist on.

Naturally, her friends – or, she supposes, _ex-friends_ now – worry about her. She’s had countless “are you okay”s from Rantaro, multiple texts from Kaito, but she can’t bring herself to talk to any of them about it. She refuses to be vulnerable. She’s been vulnerable before, and only accepted help at her lowest point; regressing to that state of relying on others once more will only hurt her.

Her routine changes to that of a ghost who can’t quite let go of its mortal existence. She drives to work, picks up a bottle of red wine or whiskey on the way home, and drinks straight from the bottle in her bed. Sometimes, even, she sits in the shower, watching the water pool down the drain, occasionally spilling wine; when it begins to look like blood, she squeezes her eyes shut and looks away.

Gradually, the skin on her fingertips wears into rough callouses from constantly running her hands over the walls of her apartment. This doesn’t bother her; even when she’s out, she can look at her hands and have a reminder that she has touched something real of her own – her broken skin is a war-wound of her own mind.

Still, she’s not exactly _coping,_ just _living._ And for a while, that’s okay. But it’s not how the rest of her life can play out; even after four weeks, she’s simply exhausted with fighting a battle with herself. Pushing away the thought, she forces herself once more to repeat her routine of waking up to be thrust again into no-man’s-land, only retreating to the relative safety of the bottom of a bottle once work is over.

* * *

 

She wakes up on a particularly cold Thursday with her head swimming in the trenches of despair. Not yet drowning, she forces herself to put her feet on the ground and get ready for work; her shower splutters cold water for a little while before heating up, and she wonders if the cold weather has somehow affected the heating in her building. The last thing she wants is for something in the workings of the entire apartment block to freeze over.

On the drive to work, she wonders, not for the first time, if she’s truly okay to drive – she was drinking until three in the morning again, and after almost a full bottle of whiskey, she knows that she’ll be over the limit only five and a half hours later. Thinking of Tenko, she feels guilty, but she can’t bring herself to truly, wholly, fully care about _anything._ Chances are, if anyone died, it would be Maki herself – and she’s fine with that.

She keeps her head down as she walks to her cubicle. Nobody spots her, and she slumps into her chair without speaking to anyone. Looking at the small calendar on her desk, she sees that it’s February 5th – she missed her own birthday, lost to a miserable month of depression. Although she doesn’t really celebrate it anyway, she likes to make herself a nice dinner or something like that; and she missed her chance. This only makes her hate herself even more.

Glancing from the calendar to her wall, she notices that there’s one more post-it note than there was before.

_“Don’t know what’s up but I’m here if you need a chat – Kaito x”_

She sighs. If she were normal, she’d like that – hell, even now, she likes the _idea_ of it, but realistically, if she opens up to Kaito, there will only be two possible outcomes: either he will leave her alone, or she’ll drag him down with her.

Throwing herself into mindless work, she tries not to think about how much she would love to be a regular woman, someone who has regular friendships and does regular things, and not some ghost of an orphan who drinks whiskey in the shower and scrubs the skin on her forearms until they stay red for hours.

When she needs a cigarette, she tries to make herself unseen as she slips away to the smoking shelter, her subtle silence reminiscent of the days wherein she would sneak away from the orphanage. She’s barely out of the office door when she lights up, and she sees Kaito and Shuichi in the shelter already; turning quickly, she hides behind a wall where they can’t see her, and finishes her cigarette, walking inside before they notice.

* * *

 

She doesn’t realise it as it happens, but her anxiety builds throughout the day, so that when she shuts her car door behind her after work, she almost screams. It wouldn’t do anything logical, but it would drown everything out until her throat becomes cut and her voice dissipates into the silence of submission. Instead, she turns the radio up to maximum, and drives a little too fast.

Once she’s enclosed within the walls of her apartment, she runs to her bed and collapses straight onto it – she’s exhausted, although she hasn’t done anything physical to warrant feeling this way. Still wearing her work clothes, she falls asleep.

With a deep, sharp breath, almost as if she died for a moment and was resuscitated, she wakes up. Her phone tells her that it’s 11pm, and she sinks back into her bed for a moment; tiredness doesn’t wash over her any more, but there’s an exhaustion rooted in her bones that blooms into the kind of anxiety that pins her to an unreal plane of existence.

 _“I need to shower,”_ she thinks, _“I need to make it all go away.”_

Practically running to her bathroom, she turns the shower on before undressing. Without a second thought, she steps under the stream of water, and immediately screams and jumps back – it’s freezing cold, despite the valve being turned up to almost maximum. She remembers how cold it was this morning, and the ice on the roads, and her heart sinks when she realises that the heating – or the hot water, at least, she’s unsure if they’re connected – has probably broken.

But she needs to shower. She needs to get rid of her memories, thick on her skin.

Panicking, she wraps herself in a dressing gown and almost texts Rantaro, before remembering that he’s away for the week in Paris or Rome or Amsterdam; somewhere nice, unlike her cold, dark apartment. She doesn’t want to text Shuichi, since he’s probably at Kokichi’s, and the last thing she wants is for _him_ to realise that she’s weak. So, her mind takes her to the place that, all along, she wanted to be.

 **< To Kaito Momota: 23:23> **Kaito are you awake?

 **< From Kaito Momota: 23:24> **yeah!! what’s up?

 **< To Kaito Momota: 23:26> **Sounds weird, but can I come over? Hot water broke in my apartment and need to use your shower.

 **< From Kaito Momota: 23:26> **sure thing!! x

 **< To Kaito Momota: 23:27> **Thank you SO much

Throwing some pyjamas on, she thanks the little luck she has that tonight is the only night she hasn’t had a drink, so she feels comfortable – as comfortable as she can be on the verge of an anxiety attack, anyway – driving to Kaito’s. White-knuckled and breathing heavily, she grips the steering wheel and tries not to cry; she can save that for in the shower, because at least then, she can blame the tears on the water and the redness of her face on the heat.

Only when she steps out of her car and waits for Kaito to let her into the apartment does she realise how ridiculous she looks, standing outside at almost midnight, wearing pyjamas without a coat, holding only car keys and her phone in her hands. Anyone would think she was mad – and she thinks that they’d be at least a little right.

When the door unlocks, the warm air from inside the building hits her so hard that she almost falls over. She thinks of glass; if it transitions from freezing cold to boiling hot too fast, it cracks and breaks – wondering if this will happen to her, she shakes her head as if erasing the thought, and walks up the stairs.

Kaito immediately lets her into his apartment and she barely has time to glance at him before her mind takes over and she runs directly to the bathroom. Locking the door, she can’t shut her thoughts up.

 _“Disgusting,”_ she thinks, _“I’m disgusting disgusting disgusting disgusting disgusting disgusting.”_

Taking ragged breaths, she stumbles against the wall as she takes off her clothes. Once the shower water is boiling hot, she steps inside and lets it fall all over her; sticking her hair to her back and turning her arms a blistering red. She scrubs, using the depths of her fingernails, until she finally feels like she’s making progress on the dirt that must be – that _has to be –_ trapped under her skin.

Every time she opens her mouth to gasp, water trickles its way into her mouth, and she chokes; spluttering, hacking, coughing until she feels like an inhuman entity in a Stevie Smith poem. The image of herself, trapped, _drowning,_ haunts her in every waking nightmare that she experiences all at once; the cacophony of every negative thought collapsing onto her at once, burying her in the rubble of the apocalypse – she can’t escape any of this.

Pouring a generous amount of Kaito’s shampoo into her shaking hands, she scratches at her scalp until her hands are thick with lather; once more, she doubts her reality, and pushes her hands against her eyes to feel the sting of shampoo burning in them.

At least now she has an excuse to cry.

She sobs, ripping out her soul and imagining that it’s slipping down the shower drain. The word _‘alone’_ echoes around her mind, as if she’s a house of mirrors and this never-ending thought is destined to forever be distorted and reflected back onto her. Sliding down the wall, she pulls her legs towards her and holds them close to her chest. Nothing feels real any more, except the vague sensation of shampoo slipping down her hair and pooling on the floor around her. Again, she pulls and scratches at her hair until all traces of lather are gone.

And then there’s nothing productive left for her to do.

She spirals. Depression, memories, aching loneliness; they haunt her as she finds it increasingly hard to breathe. Every intake of air catches in her throat, mingling itself involuntarily with her thick, rolling sobs, and the heat of the shower water that still clings to her bottom lip.

For a moment, she forgets where she is. The urge to scream swells in her chest, but she doesn’t – something within her tells her that she can’t, not here, although she can’t pinpoint why. Her thoughts are swimming away from her and she’s being taken by a current in the opposite direction. Although she can control her choice not to scream, she has no power over the sobs that echo through the hollow core of her whole body, like a crescendo in some piano song played at some bar where she felt happy and then sad and now nothing.

Now nothing.

Despite her increasing fall into the depths of what she can only describe as the madness of despair, something, unexpectedly, pulls her from it. A voice.

“Maki Roll?”

 _“Shit,”_ she thinks, _“he heard me. Fuck – why am I even here?”_

“You okay in there?”

“F-Fine,” she chokes out, “I’ll be out…soon.”

“Oh, no, take your time! Just checking! Thought I heard…never mind.”

Maki gulps down her fear and stands up. For a moment, she simply stands with her face under the hot water, feeling a little better after Kaito’s voice brought her back to reality. She knows that, if she stays like this for much longer, she’ll only break down again, so she turns the shower valve off and wraps a towel around herself.

Changing into pyjamas, she takes one last look at herself in the steamed-up mirror; her face is a little red, but not so much that Kaito would notice, and even if he did, she could just blame it on the heat of the water. Her hair is thick, clinging to her; she feels the uncomfortable damp of water seeping through the back of her t-shirt. Nevertheless, there’s nothing to be done about it, and she steps out of the bathroom.

“Maki Roll!”

“Hey, Kaito,” she says.

“Everything okay?”

“Y-Yeah,” she lies, “just really…wanted to shower.”

“When do you think the water’s gonna come back on at yours?”

“Hopefully soon. Tomorrow, I think. It’s a big building so they won’t want to risk complaints or whatever.”

“Ah, nice.”

“I should go,” she says, not really having any conviction behind her statement.

“Do you want to, like, dry your hair before you leave?”

“You got a hairdryer?”

“Yeah! I’ll go get it. You don’t wanna drive with wet hair.”

“You’re right,” she tells him.

Kaito walks into his bedroom, as Maki makes her way to the living room and sits on the floor. She’s not exactly exhausted, but her whole body feels heavy. When Kaito re-enters, hairdryer in hand, she barely has the motivation to look up at him.

“You seem tired,” he says, “do you want me to…uh…dry your hair for you?”

“Would you?”

“I don’t…I don’t mind. I mean, if you wanna just sit back and relax.”

“That sounds…nice.”

“Awesome. Shuffle up,” he says. She feels him cross his legs when he sits behind her.

Suddenly, she’s hyper aware of the wonderful feeling of his hands touching her neck as he brings her hair fully behind her and starts running a brush gently through it.

“Tell me if it hurts, okay?”

“It won’t,” she says, silently thinking of how much worse she’s had to endure in the past in terms of pain.

Once he’s brushed out all the tangles, Kaito turns the hairdryer on and begins to work his hands through her hair as he dries it. Maki closes her eyes, happy in the fact that he can’t see how content she is; there’s something so soft and wonderful about this simple, genuine touch. Every time his hands brush up against her skin, she smiles a little at the warmth and closeness of it all; this, she reasons, must be the opposite of the gnawing loneliness that she’s been feeling for a month.

And then he stops. Before Maki can speak, Kaito shifts a little and finds the television remote.

“I thought you’d be bored,” he says, “so here. Put whatever you like on.”

She resists the urge to say, _“This is heaven, right here, right now.”_

Instead, she flicks through the channels until she finds a quiet documentary about exploring the seabed. She’s not particularly interested, but it’s a little bit of background noise whilst she enjoys the feeling of Kaito drying her hair.

“They couldn’t pay me to go there,” he says.

“What?”

“Down there. In the sea. They couldn’t fucking pay me to go down there.”

“I thought you wanted to go to space?”

“Yeah, space is cool. Not like the sea, that’s just fucking terrifying.”

“I don’t get your reasoning, but sure. Whatever you say, Kaito.”

He resumes drying her hair, and she notices that he hums a song as he works; the sound is so faint over the loudness of the hairdryer, but somehow she feels in tune with him. Every time he runs his fingers through her hair, she smiles; a sad, solemn sentiment, because this is everything she’s been missing for so long. It feels like _home,_ that’s the only way she can describe it.

An hour passes as they sit in this content state. When Kaito turns the hairdryer off, she snaps out of her daze.

“Done,” he says, “you look _beautiful._ Sorry.”

“T-Thank you,” she replies. Every emotion that she hasn’t felt – or, rather, hasn’t let herself feel – over the past month floods into her body like electricity, and she can’t stop the sobs that work their way up her throat. Before she knows it, she’s crying, and she can’t even bring herself to be fully embarrassed, because deep down, she knows that she needs this. And she needs Kaito.

She needs the fact that he quickly turns from confusion to concern, and that he wraps his arm around her shoulder without saying a word. Continuing to cry, she gives herself a moment before sniffling and looking up.

“S-Sorry,” she says, “this is weird.”

“Nah, it’s not weird. Everyone cries.”

“Even you?”

“Even me.”

“Kaito,” she says, trying to control her tears, “ignore me if this is like, strange, but I don’t really wanna be…alone. Could you…stay at mine tonight?”

“Of course, Maki Roll. I wouldn’t want to leave you when you’re like this, anyway.”

“I-I’ll drive you in a moment.”

“Take all the time you need,” he says.

“I’m fine. Really. I’m fine now,” she replies, finally managing to curb her sobs; although she doesn’t feel any better on the inside, at least she’s stopped externalising her feelings.

“I’ll just go and grab some clothes for work in the morning, then,” Kaito says, “and whenever you feel ready, we can go.”

When Kaito leaves to go to his bedroom, Maki notices the ghostly absence of him around her whole body; he was warm, and now, she seems to be shivering once more down the path of her previous loneliness. Before this thought can truly consume her, Kaito comes back into the room and extends his hand to her.

“I’m ready – are you?”

“Yeah,” she says.

She walks with him to her car, noticing how strange it looks that they’re both in pyjamas. Her emotional side tells her that they look like a married couple, and she’s thankful for the darkness of the night when she blushes at the thought.

Inside her car, she doesn’t particularly try to make conversation with Kaito; there’s nothing she could say to try and explain herself, not until she’s rationalised it herself, anyway. He seems to respect this, because he doesn’t try to talk either, they simply sit with the radio on low volume, listening to music that Maki doesn’t recognise, until they pull up outside her apartment.

“Let’s go inside,” Kaito says, getting out of the car before Maki can even unbuckle her seatbelt. She barely has time to wonder why he got out so fast before he opens her door and extends his hand to her. Remembering what Rantaro told her about his masculinity complex, she holds onto him and steps out.

Once inside her apartment, she slumps straight onto the edge of the sofa, misjudging her aim by a little and ending up sliding to the floor – she doesn’t care, and she stays like this until Kaito puts his bag down, takes something out of it, and joins her. Sitting down next to her, he holds out a little wrapped gift.

“H-How did you? I mean –”

“Rantaro told me. I wanted to give it to you on your actual birthday, but I didn’t want to disturb you. I don’t know what’s happened, but I know you’re not okay. So…here.”

Maki takes the gift and starts unwrapping it; she’s never really had an experience like this before, not on her birthday, and she waits with baited breath to see what’s inside. Once the wrapping paper has been thrown aside, she holds in her hand a small projector.

“It’s called a Home Planet,” Kaito says, “and it projects stars onto your ceiling. I thought you might want to…I don’t know…use it when you’re feeling kinda down.”

“Kaito,” she replies, “I-I wanted one of these so bad as a kid. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Maki Roll. Do you wanna…talk about what’s been going on?”

“Kinda,” she says, “but I can’t, like, get the right words, y’know?”

“I get that. I’m here if you ever need someone.”

“I just…I grew up in an orphanage, you know that,” she says; she has the feeling that tonight will be the night she finally, fully opens up to him about this – even Rantaro doesn’t know the full extent of it, “and it wasn’t really a good one. I never knew my parents, so I guess I had nothing to compare it to. And I was one of the oldest there, so the younger kids sort of…relied on me.”

Kaito nods, listening intently.

“So,” she continues, “I was like their carer for a bit, since the actual orphanage workers didn’t give a shit. But when I turned fourteen, I just…stopped caring. About everything. I was sneaking out every night, going to bars that I knew wouldn’t ask for ID, stealing money from the purses and wallets of the workers, all that shit. Sure, they knew it was me. And they…weren’t exactly…accommodating. Nothing too bad, or like, overtly physical. Just a couple of slaps and stuff like that.”

She checks to see if he’s still listening; telling this story from start to finish, she knows, will take a lot of strength and energy – no doubt she’ll hate herself after it, so she has to make sure it’s worth it. As she thought, he’s looking at her with a mixture of confusion and, perhaps, sympathy.

“You don’t have to tell me if it’s too hard,” he says.

“No, I-I want to,” she replies, “if you want to hear it, of course.”

“I do.”

“R-Right. Well, the worst part was probably the non-physical…punishments. They didn’t make living exactly easy. We barely had heating, and they weren’t really above stopping my food when I stepped out of line too many times. I didn’t really mind – I didn’t really care if I died or not. And then I turned sixteen, and I still had a bit of that childish hope, and I just…left. That’s when things, well, they didn’t get _worse,_ they stayed bad, just in a different kind of way. I was...on the streets for a while,” she pauses, trying to gauge his reaction, but his expression doesn’t change from one of concern, “and I stayed there for a year, maybe more. Honestly, I don’t know. Things – days – were kind of a blur back then. And I didn’t want to accept help, ‘cause then I’d be reliant on people and I wanted to be independent, but I was like…probably nearly dead, and I had to look for help. So I got back on my feet, and I got this job when I was twenty-two, and then…well, ever since…I don’t like having things that are too good.”

“What do you mean?”

“If things are too good, then that means I have more to lose. And, Kaito, I can’t do that again. I can’t go back to how I was. It’s better if I’m just not happy, but at least I have a place to live and food to eat.”

“Maki Roll, I –”

“I don’t want sympathy.”

“Right. Yeah. But I mean – that’s no way to live your life.”

“It’s better than it was before.”

“But it’s worse than what you deserve.”

“Don’t you see? I don’t deserve this,” she sighs, “I brought this on myself.”

“No. No you fucking didn’t,” he says, “you didn’t choose to be an orphan, you didn’t choose to suffer the way that you did, and just because all that shit happened to you, doesn’t mean that you have to put up with living a life of unhappiness. Don’t you think it’s better to have something good, and risk the chance of losing it, than never to be happy at all?”

“No. I don’t. I can’t see it that way.”

“Then maybe we could…I mean…maybe you and I could…try and help you have something good?”

“You _are_ the good in my life, Kaito. And that terrifies me. It scares me to fucking death, because this is the happiest I’ve ever felt, and the most scared I’ve ever been.”

“Hey,” he says, “hey, I’m not gonna leave you, okay? We’ll be…friends…for as long as you want me around.”

“You can’t promise that.”

“I can promise anything. If I set my mind to it, I can do _anything._ And you’re worth it, Maki Roll.”

Maki smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. Instead, she plugs in the Home Planet and lets the stars fly across the ceiling, cementing their place into a reality that she’s beginning to understand. Still sitting with her back against the sofa, she leans into Kaito, and he puts his arm around her like he did back at his apartment. Around him, for some inexplicable reason, she feels safe.

Watching the stars dance across her personal sky, slowly taking the infinitesimal leap into forever, she lets Kaito keep her warm as she closes her eyes, accepting, nervously, that the stars will still be there when she wakes.

* * *

 

Although she only intended to have a small nap, she wakes to the sunrise. Noticing that Kaito’s arm is still around her, she gently, carefully slides out and walks to her bathroom to test the water. Once she finds that it’s working again, she has a quick shower, surprising herself with how little she feels like she needs to scrub until she almost bleeds.

Checking the clock to see that it’s only six in the morning, she pulls a blanket from her bed and covers Kaito with it, wondering if he was cold when he slept last night – he certainly can’t have been comfortable, but she suspects that he didn’t move because he was scared of waking her up. It still mildly confuses her how he can be such a selfless person.

Once she’s ready for work, she sees that only an hour has passed. Knowing that Kaito will probably want to shower and get ready himself, she walks to her kitchen and checks what she has in her fridge; eggs, bacon, milk – she knows that there’s bread and coffee in the cupboard. She wants to do something to repay Kaito for all his kindness, so she sets about making them both something nice to eat, humming to herself as she makes a pot of coffee, fries some bacon, and cooks scrambled eggs. Her mind convinces her, if only for a moment, that she’s a carefree girlfriend – _or wife –_ making breakfast for someone who truly loves her.

She shakes this thought off.

Once breakfast is ready, she plates everything up and sets it on the kitchen counter, before walking over to Kaito and gently shaking his shoulder.

“Wake up,” she says.

“Huh?”

“It’s morning, idiot.”

“Oh, right, yeah,” he mumbles, “shit. Sorry. Must’a fallen asleep.”

“It’s alright. So did I.”

“Somethin’ smells good,” he says, and Maki notices how his half-awake, sleepy voice makes her chest feel light and, potentially, happy.

“I made you breakfast. To say thanks.”

“For what?”

“For being you. And,” she gestures to the Home Planet, “for the stars.”

“I’ll take you to see the real ones someday.”

“I’d like that a lot.”

She brings his plate over to him, along with coffee – she remembers to bring lots of milk and sugar over, too, remembering how he likes to drink things with an obscene amount of sweetness.

“Thank you, Maki Roll.”

“No problem. I also left a spare toothbrush on the bathroom counter for you, and the hot water is working again if you want a shower.”

“Thanks.”

They eat together, sitting on the sofa with the faint glimmer of stars on the ceiling – Kaito must have not moved all night, and so the Home Planet must have stayed plugged in; the stars aren’t as bright in the daytime, but Maki doesn’t mind.

After breakfast, Kaito gets in the shower whilst Maki muses about tidying away the dishes she used and giving her apartment a little clean. It’s nothing much, but for some reason, she wants to impress Kaito – she’s simultaneously comfortable around him, and she wants to prove herself to him. Between all this, she just can’t figure out where she stands, or where she wants to stand, with him.

She’s sitting on her bed when he comes out of the shower; he’s wearing a loose work shirt, buttoned up, but not all the way to the top. Drying his hair with a towel, he flashes her a smile as she tries, but ultimately fails, to tear her gaze away. Something in her mind tells her that this is how she wants every morning, from now until the end of eternity, to be.

At half past eight, they’re both sat in her car, fiddling with the radio before they begin the drive. Maki doesn’t mind what they listen to, so she lets Kaito take control, shifting into gear and pulling onto the street once he’s decided on a station.

“Thanks for breakfast, Maki Roll,” he says, “it was _so_ good.”

“You’re welcome. Thanks for…last night. Don’t mention it to anyone in the office.”

“Your secret’s safe with me.”

“I appreciate that.”

“I like spending time with you,” he says; she starts to blush, and focuses directly on the road ahead instead of turning towards him.

“M-Me too,” she stutters a little, cursing herself internally. Normally, she’s so composed, but she’s gradually been letting down her guard around Kaito, and so far, all he’s done is validate her and give her the affection that she didn’t know she needed until now.

 _“Perhaps this is love,”_ the voice in her mind says, almost mockingly.

When they pull up at the office, Maki doesn’t think twice about walking in next to Kaito. Unfortunately, she bumps straight into Kokichi, loitering by the entrance to their floor.

“Ooh,” he raises his voice, “Kaito and Maki arriving _together!_ Have the office power couple _finally_ got together? Kaito, bro, I’m so proud! And Maki, eventually getting your shit together and telling Kaito you _looooove_ him, how…interesting.”

For the first time, Maki finds herself at an impasse in her battle of wits with Kokichi. She doesn’t know what to say – she almost wishes that what he said was true, but she can’t confirm or deny it. She doesn’t know if she loves Kaito, and she certainly doesn’t know if he loves her. Besides, even if their situation was confirmed, she definitely wouldn’t want the whole office to know.

“Shut up,” Kaito says, raising his voice to match Kokichi’s, “my car’s in for servicing so Maki Roll gave me a lift into work. Stop being a childish dick.”

“Aww, Kaito,” Kokichi says, “I was hoping for a better lie. Or something more exciting. Whatever! I’m bored of this hetero bullshit now.”

“I told you, I’m bi,” Maki says, “and so is he. And we’re not…nothing happened… _shut up.”_

“Ignore him,” Kaito says, walking straight past Kokichi as Maki follows.

“Thanks,” she whispers.

“No problem.”

When they reach his cubicle, she looks a little longer than she normally would at him, before walking onwards, feeling the strangeness of the air around her, with no other obstruction in the way any more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to post this on Maki's birthday but it's past 1am on the 3rd so I'm a bit late. Happy belated birthday, Harumaki, I got you some angst!
> 
> Thank you for reading! I really hope you're enjoying this fic so far. Let me know in the comments if you are - I read and reply to all of them and they make me so happy :^)
> 
> Also, I started writing a pre-game (v3 spoilers) fic, which I'm going to update on alternating weekends. So, on the weekends that this fic doesn't update, that one will, and vice versa. If you're interested, check it out [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13438602/chapters/30799794)! Have a lovely day :D
> 
> And finally, I started watching The Office! Jim and Pam remind me of Kaito and Maki in this fic, and I'm already loving the series! I'm on series one, episode five and I want to watch this and write kaimaki forever!


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maki feels happy - genuinely happy - for the first time in so long. When Kaito invites her out, she accepts. Everything is going perfectly. So, so perfectly. Like the eye of the storm.

Maki sits at her desk for what feels like forever, enjoying the small pleasure of not feeling alone any more; physically, yes, she’s in her cubicle on her own, but mentally, she’s still reliving the wonderful closeness she had with Kaito only hours ago. Everything prior to last night feels like a horrible nightmare, just an uneasiness settling, ready to dissolve, in the pit of her stomach. And yet she knows that this is temporary. Deluding herself that one night in the company of someone kind will undo years of trauma is something that she wouldn’t have even done as a child, but still, she keeps giving herself ‘just one more moment’ to sit in the warm water of comfortableness.

Every moment turns into every hour, and before she knows it, she’s ambling along to the kitchen, her mind thinking of nothing but boiling hot coffee and checking the fridge to see if she’s left herself anything to eat in there. Logically knowing, given how she’s been barely scraping by over the past few weeks, that she won’t have anything in for lunch, she tries to settle herself back into the beautiful hold of her good mood.

“Maki Roll!”

She barely has time to enter the kitchen before she hears Kaito calling her name from across the room, standing by the coffee pot; the way he leans on the counter, so casually, reminds her of how carefree he seems to be, and how much she is strangely inspired by that.

“Hey,” she says, “what’s up?”

Walking over to him, she quickly checks to see that nobody is in the immediate vicinity of their conversation; once this is confirmed, she leans in towards him to speak softly.

“You haven’t told anyone about last night, right?”

“Of course not,” he whispers, his voice as quiet as hers, “and I promise I won’t.”

“Thanks.”

“Anyway,” he pulls back from their position, presumably so as not to seem suspicious to anybody else, “are you free tonight?”

“Why?”

“Oh, Kokichi and Shuichi invited me to go to the movies with them, but y’know how they are when they’re together, and I didn’t wanna go alone, so…”

“You know you don’t have to go at all, right? You don’t have to do something just ‘cause Kokichi tells you to, or ‘cause you wanna be a good friend to Shuichi or something.”

“Ha, yeah,” he looks downwards slightly, no longer meeting her eyes, “but I really wanna see this film – it’s some horror that Kokichi suggested.”

“What’s it called?”

“Ah, I don’t know,” he says, “but it sounds good.”

“I thought you really wanted to see it?”

“I do, I just…have a bad memory for names and stuff.”

“Sounds good.”

“What?” Kaito says, surprised.

“I said it sounds good,” she replies, “I’m in. What time?”

“Oh, thanks! It starts at eight, so I’ll pick you up at seven?”

“It’s a…plan,” she says, her mouth stalling on the word ‘date’.

“Lovely. Anyway, there’s fuck-all food in the fridge, do you wanna go grab something with me?”

“Oh, yeah, okay. That sounds good.”

“Awesome, let’s go!”

Maki sees that he almost takes her hand, but pulls back at the last minute; a part of her, the part that is surely taking over every other element of her existence, wishes that he’d had the courage to do what she is still treading too cautiously to do.

Leaving the office building, they walk a short distance to a café a couple of streets over. It’s small, simple, and therefore relatively quiet; Maki wonders if Kaito led her to this place so that they could have a conversation uninterrupted by the majority of the general public.

Once they order their food, she finds them a table in the corner, hidden away from the eyes and ears of anyone else. When Kaito sits opposite her, she sinks down onto her elbows and sighs in exhaustion, feeling the strain on her back as she leans forward; she knows that it’s her own fault for sleeping in such an awkward position.

“Thanks for, y’know,” she says, “not telling anyone about last night.”

“Like I said, Maki Roll, your secret is safe with me. And that’s a promise.”

“Anyway…why did Kokichi and Shuichi invite you on what’s essentially a date?”

“Fucked if I know, but Shuichi did say that I should ask you along.”

She shakes her head at how dense Kaito can be sometimes. It only takes her a quick moment to figure out that Kokichi must have manipulated Shuichi into setting her and Kaito up on what he views as a date – she reasons that it must be part of some stupidly grand masterplan to create workplace drama, as if he doesn’t do that well enough on his own. But Kaito seems to be none-the-wiser, and were she to bring it up, they’d only find themselves at an awkward impasse that she created. Perhaps this itself was Kokichi’s main goal; he must have seen them together this morning, and tried to create an unspoken discomfort in her mind. She’s at a stalemate, with no way forward or back. Mentioning it to Kaito would bring out into the open the fact that _she_ herself views it as a date, opening her up for Kaito’s blindness to the obvious, or even worse, her rejection by him. But not mentioning it makes her palms clammy and her mind ache with the tension that she feels when facing this great, terrifying unknown.

Still, letting herself sit in this dilemma would be another victory for Kokichi, seeing as she keeps thinking of him when all she wants to do is think of Kaito, so she pushes these thoughts aside and focuses on the present conversation.

“Yo,” Kaito says as she snaps back to reality, “earth to Maki, you there? What’s got you thinking so hard?”

“Oh…nothing. Just daydreaming.”

He barely has time to ask for more details, a fact which she finds herself grateful for, when the waitress comes over with their food. It only takes Kaito a moment to start eating, whereas she picks around at her plate, trying to rationalise the turmoil in her chest that she simply can’t blame on hunger.

“This is nice,” he says, “we should do this more often.”

“Hm, yeah. Thanks again.”

“What for?”

“Y’know…last night.”

“People aren’t nice to you very often, are they?”

“What do you mean?”

“You keep thanking me. It’s like you’re not used to people doing things for you just because they want to. To be honest, I don’t know if you believe that you deserve all the good things that you do deserve. It’s like you think that every interaction you have is some kind of barter system.”

“That’s…I mean…I don’t…”

“You don’t have to, like, accept it straight away. I know it’s a lot to take in, and I might not be right. I’m just saying, y’know, you do deserve nice things just for the sake of it.”

“Oh, uh, thanks I guess.”

Maki finishes the rest of her food whilst still being stuck on this thought. Back in December, she’d have pegged Kaito as nothing more than a predictable idiot, but in the short time she’s known him, her perception has radically changed; she sees him now for what he truly is – underneath his optimistic, simple front, he’s a wildly intelligent and perceptive man. And knowing this makes her feel more strongly about, _or for,_ him.

* * *

 

As they’re walking back to the office, they light their cigarettes simultaneously; Maki is content in being in this comfortable silence. Speaking now would only ruin the moment, not only because there’s nothing to be said, but because she finds beauty and almost-happiness in the sound of Kaito’s shoes hitting the ground, in the sight of the slight breeze in his hair, in the way he smiles whenever she looks up at him.

Peaceful, simple, bliss. Something she’s never had before. It’s like she’s grasping onto a thread, barely hanging on as she climbs her way up, thorns pricking her hands with every ragged breath as she pulls herself further towards the edge of the atmosphere. Although it’s terrifying, and there’s an underlying, ever-present fear that she will let go and lose everything, she’s closer to being truly content than she ever has been before.

Something tells her that Kaito would approve of her taking risks to be happy, rather than sitting in the comfortable safety of monotonous sadness.

Her sanctuary with him is abruptly interrupted as they approach the entrance to the office, when Kokichi jumps up in front of them, causing Kaito to let out a loud _‘fuck!’_.

“Soooo,” Kokichi says, “did you invite dear _Maki Roll_ to the movies tonight?”

“You’re not allowed to call me that,” she tells him sternly.

“Are you coming or what?”

“If you must know, yes I am.”

“Aw, sucks. I wanted to be alone with my dearest Shuichi!”

“But,” Kaito says, “you invited me. And you and Shuichi wanted Maki to come, too.”

“I guess you saw through my lie! Whatever, see you tonight.”

Kaito pushes past Kokichi and holds him off with one hand whilst he gestures for Maki to walk inside first. Ignoring Kokichi’s shouts of _‘ooh, such a gentleman!’,_ she waits for Kaito to walk inside after her, and they walk to their respective cubicles.

Getting stuck into her work, she lets her mind drift; finally, it settles on thinking of what she’ll wear tonight, and she surprises herself by thinking so naturally about such normal things. In such a stark contrast to her thoughts of severe trauma and depression, she’s finally found something to pull her slightly out of the darkness, and it’s wonderful, but she can’t help but feel like she’s caught in the eye of some cruel storm.

She’s pulled away from her work by someone pulling her chair backwards and spinning her around. Looking up, she sees Rantaro.

“I’m back!”

“How was it?”

“What, Paris? It was lovely. Got you a little present,” he says, pulling a mini Eiffel Tower figurine out of his pocket and putting it on her desk.

“Thank you,” she replies, “I’m glad you’re back.”

“Me too. It was nice, but I can only speak enough of the language to get by. But I will say, those Parisian men are something else.”

“I assume you have stories to tell.”

“Absolutely.”

“Listen, are you free after work?”

“Uh-huh, what’s up?”

“I’m going to the movies with Kaito tonight – Shuichi and Kokichi are there too – and I wanna look nice, and I know you’re good with hair and stuff, and I wanna hear all your Paris stories, so…”

“Sounds like a plan. I’ll drive to yours when we finish and do your hair and tell you all about the Parisian Kokichi that I met.”

“The _what?”_

“All in due time, Maki, all in due time.”

Having peaked her curiosity, Rantaro walks towards his own cubicle without another word. She’s left staring at the clock, waiting for work to end so she can re-immerse herself in the warmth of being alongside people who she cares for.

* * *

 

When the end of the work day finally rolls around, she waits for Rantaro by the entrance. Although they get into separate cars, they’re going the same way, and she can see him in her rear-view mirror, driving behind her, one hand on the wheel, his other arm hanging out of the open window and drumming a beat on the side of his car. She laughs and shakes her head, sneaking occasional glances through her mirror at his one-man performance.

Arriving at her apartment block, she leads Rantaro inside, grabbing two beers out of the fridge and throwing one over to him.

“Dutch courage for your date with Kaito?”

“It’s not a date!”

“It totally is. It’s a double date, technically.”

“Shut up and help me with my hair,” she says, half-joking.

He starts playing with it, before taking Maki’s hair curlers out of her open drawer and plugging them in. His hands in her hair remind her of last night, and for a moment, she imagines that it’s Kaito, not Rantaro, who’s gently separating her hair into strands and wrapping it around the barrel of the hair curler.

“So, tell me about Parisian Kokichi,” she says.

“Ah, yeah. I knew you’d like this story. I met a guy in Paris – you know how it is, all fancy cigarettes and posh wine and sitting on balconies – and he just came up to me and we started talking. My heart stopped for a sec when he spoke to me, ‘cause he looked just like Kokichi – weird flyaway hair and everything. But he was nice. A lot easier to follow along with than Kokichi.”

“And what happened?”

“Oh, we had a thing. I mean, I wanted to do the whole sightseeing thing, but honestly I spent most of my time in his apartment getting royally pissed on red wine and having a cheesy holiday romance.”

“So did you get his number?”

“Yeah, but it’s not gonna go any further. I mean, he lives in Paris. And I don’t think I could date someone who’s so…Kokichi.”

“Yeah, I’d hate to date someone who looked like one of my exes. If I had any exes,” she laughs.

“I guess you’re just lucky that you don’t have any exes who look like Kaito.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh please, first he’s getting you a birthday present, then you’re going on a date – sorry, _not-a-date –_ and you’re asking me to make you look all glamorous. Face it honey, you’re into him.”

“You’re the one who told him it was my birthday!”

“You’ll thank me when you’re making out with him in the back of his car tonight.”

“That will definitely _not_ be happening.”

“You totally want it to,” Rantaro smirks; she sees his expression in the mirror.

“Okay, well, he _is_ a good kisser, but that’s all I’m admitting.”

“You’re making progress! A few weeks ago, you wouldn’t have even said that.”

“Huh,” she says, “I guess I wouldn’t have.”

She conveniently omits the facts of last night from their conversation; it’s not that she doesn’t trust Rantaro, she just doesn’t want anyone except Kaito and herself to be privy to the little moment of weakness that she showed, and the outpouring of kindness that she received in return. The privacy of such intimacy is what makes the memory even more special.

Once Rantaro is finished with her hair, he brings it in front of her shoulders with a little flourish, smiling at his own work. Even Maki herself can see that she looks nice with soft, loose waves.

“I may or may not have heard Kaito once say that he thinks women with curly hair are beautiful,” he says.

“Oh…thanks.”

“Now, are you going to let me pick you an outfit?”

“Are you going to tailor it to what you know about Kaito’s taste in women?”

“Perhaps.”

“Sure, go ahead.”

Rantaro rummages through Maki’s wardrobe until he finds a pair of casual jeans and a black t-shirt.

“Wear your red leather jacket with this, and just trust me,” he says.

“Okay. While we have time, do you think you could do my nails as well?”

“On one condition.”

“And what’s that?”

“Admit that you like Kaito, even just a little.”

“Fine…there is a small part of me…a very minor part of my non-rational side, that may be somewhat…or in part…attracted to Kaito.”

“Jesus Maki, that was convoluted. But I’m a man of my word, so I’ll do your nails.”

Rantaro finishes with Maki’s nails at quarter to seven, and once she’s changed into her outfit, she twirls around a little so he can see his handiwork in action.

“Beautiful. What time’s he picking you up?”

“Seven.”

“I’ll be off then! Text me how it goes.”

“You okay to drive? I mean, you had a beer.”

“Maki, you worry too much. It was one beer over an hour ago, I’ll be fine.”

“Text me when you get home, okay?”

“Alright, but I don’t expect a reply. I want you to be so smitten that you can’t focus your attention anywhere but Kaito’s dreamy, beautiful eyes and his…” Rantaro puts his hand over his heart and swoons in mock-adoration.

“Shut _up.”_

“Enjoy your date!” Rantaro shouts as he leaves her apartment, prompting her to glare at him and then smile, knowing that he’s only joking.

She barely has a minute to compose herself, spraying a last minute spritz of perfume on her neck and wrists, before her phone starts ringing; she sees Kaito’s Caller ID, and her heart leaps a little.

“Hey,” she says.

“Hey! I’m outside, so just come down when you’re ready.”

“On my way.”

Making sure she has her keys, cigarettes, phone, and purse, she grabs her bag and half-runs down the stairs. She sees Kaito’s car outside, and gets in the passenger side, smiling at him as she puts her seatbelt on.

“You look amazing,” he says, “I really like your hair like that.”

“Oh,” she replies, blushing a little and fiddling with her hair to try and hide her face, “thank you.”

“So, are you excited?”

“Yeah, it’s been so long since I went to the movies. I usually just wait until shit comes online.”

“I mean, me too, but it’s nice to actually pay money to see things every once in a while.”

She laughs, and glances out of the corner of her eye to see him smiling. Whilst his eyes are focused on the road, she can look subtly at every inch of his face, taking in just how attractive she finds him; of course, his personality and his kindness are what make her feel so strongly about him, but it certainly doesn’t hurt that he’s not bad to look at.

When they pull up outside the cinema, Kaito checks his watch and tells her that they’re still half an hour early.

“Oh well,” she says, “I don’t mind waiting a bit for them to turn up.”

“Me neither.”

“Oh, wait, looks like I’m getting a text from Shuichi,” she pulls her phone out of her jacket pocket.

 **< From Shuichi: 19:39> **Might be a bit late. Should probably get there about 7:50. Sorry.

 **< To Shuichi: 19:40> **Don’t worry about it. Drive safe.

 **< From Shuichi: 19:40> **Oh, I’m not driving – Kokichi is.

 **< To Shuichi: 19:41> **Oh god. Kaito and I wish you all the luck you can get.

 **< From Shuichi: 19:42> **He’s actually driving pretty wellkjhk WAIT NEVER MIND HE JUST SWERVED SO I’D DROP MY PHONE

 **< To Shuichi: 19:42> **Chaotic evil.

Kaito snorts when he reads Shuichi’s final message. It’s strange; Maki never thought that she’d be huddled outside a cinema, with his chin just grazing her shoulder, as she shows him her phone screen and they laugh together – it’s so simple, and that’s what makes it so beautiful. And of course, slightly bittersweet, since she can’t shake her ‘eye of the storm’ worry, and because she doesn’t know how to react to this, having never had someone treat her like this before.

Before she can settle too comfortably into this, Kokichi’s car pulls up close to the entrance and Shuichi gets out, looking slightly pale and shaken.

“That was _sooo_ fun, wasn’t it Shuichi!”

“Jesus Christ,” Kaito says, “you’ve nearly given him a heart attack. How shit _is_ your driving?”

“Kaito,” Kokichi whines, “don’t be so _mean._ I got him here safely.”

“Whatever,” Maki says, “let’s just go inside.”

They do so, and Maki notices how they separate into two couples; Shuichi and Kokichi in front, and herself and Kaito behind them. When it’s their turn to buy their tickets, she gets her purse out, only for Kaito to gently push her hand down.

“I’ve got this,” he says, and he pays for both of their tickets and food before she can say anything in protest.

“Thank you,” she tells him.

Settling into the darkness of the cinema, Maki feels glad that she’s on the end of the row – there’s enough open space next to her for her not to feel claustrophobic, but on her other side, Kaito sits, leaning a little towards her and sharing the armrest.

Once the trailers are over and the film begins, she notices, before she starts concentrating on the movie, that Kaito seems to grip the arm of his chair a little tighter as the screen dims and fades into the opening scene. If he hadn’t said that he was excited to see this movie, she would assume that he was scared, but she can’t imagine Kaito, of all people, being scared of something as pathetic as a horror film.

Still, the film that they’re all watching utilises jumpscares more liberally than Maki finds tasteful. Between Kokichi’s audible laughter at every scary scene, Shuichi’s quiet muttering about how the logistics of the film are flawed, and Kaito’s sharp intakes of breath, she finds that any immersion she could have had in the horror quickly dissipates.

There is one jumpscare that gets to even her. It comes out of nowhere; no suspenseful buildup, no predictable cinematic angles, and it makes the whole cinema jump – but it affects Kaito most; he screams and grabs her arm. Immediately afterwards, he lets go and whispers apologies over and over.

“Shh,” she whispers, “it’s fine. You’re being loud.”

“R-Right. Sorry,” he says.

Feeling a wave of guilt for being harsh on him, she silently slips her hand into his and gives it a gentle squeeze. Leaning further into him, she says, “You don’t have to watch it, y’know. Turn your face away if it scares you.”

“I’m not scared.”

“You totally are. It’s cool, though.”

In response, Kaito rests his head on her shoulder, and even in the darkness of the cinema, she sees him close his eyes. To everyone else, it must look like he’s sleeping, but Maki knows that he’s not; she likes to think that he trusts her enough to feel less scared with his hand in hers and his head on her shoulder.

When the movie finishes, she taps him lightly on the shoulder and he looks up. As the credits roll and, after a while, the lights turn on again, they’re still holding hands. Regardless of the fact that Kokichi will inevitably see and comment on it, she doesn’t want to let go.

As they walk to the car park in their group of four – essentially two couples – they stand in the entrance of the cinema for a few moments as they light up their cigarettes and make idle chat about the film. Whenever Kokichi asks an intricate question about the plot, Maki makes sure to jump in with an answer so that Kaito doesn’t get caught out for not having concentrated on the film.

“T-Thanks for coming,” Shuichi says to Kaito and Maki.

“No problem bro! It was fun, and it was nice with Maki Roll here too.”

“Yeah,” Kokichi chimes in, “we _all_ love dearest Maki Roll!”

“I fucking told you,” Maki says, “to stop calling me that.”

Kokichi pouts, “But you let Kaito call you that!”

“Yes, because I actually like Kaito. I just tolerate you.”

“Ooh, got you to admit it! You _like_ Kaito. You _love_ Kaito!”

“Shuichi, control your boyfriend please.”

“R-Right, yeah. Kokichi, stop it.”

“Even my dearest Shuichi is turning against me!”

“I-I’m not turning against you,” Shuichi says, “I’m just pointing out that you should lay off Maki a bit.”

“What _ever,”_ Kokichi says, drawing out the word in a childish whine, “you’re all boring. C’mon Shuichi, drive us back!”

Kokichi skips away to Shuichi’s car and pulls at the handle until Shuichi clicks his car keys to unlock the door.

“Sorry about that, guys,” Shuichi says, “you know how he can be.”

“Why do you date him?” Maki asks.

“He’s different when it’s just me and him. All of this is like…a front. It’s hard to explain. Just…try and get along with him, please? I’ll ask him to go easy on you guys, since you’re our friends and all.”

“We’ll try,” Kaito says, “but we can’t make any promises unless he changes, too.”

“I’ll have a word with him,” Shuichi says, “but I should go. I’ll see you guys on Monday.”

“Yeah, see you.”

* * *

 

Once Shuichi leaves, Maki finds the urge to hold Kaito’s hand again. She let go just as they were walking out of the cinema; luckily, Kokichi didn’t see, but with that obstruction out of the way now, she wants to hold onto him a little longer. They walk back to his car hand in hand; she feels his absence strongly when he lets go to start driving.

The night-time scenery flies past her open window with all the force of a moment slipping away too fast. Streetlights blur into one continuous long-exposure of light, and she feels the wind whip her hair around her face, playfully and completely unobstructed. Imagining that Kaito is looking at her in adoration, she smiles to the world outside and sits contently in her own fantasy for a brief infinity, like she was born to be in this exact car with this exact person on this exact Friday night. Everything, for less than a second, is perfect; she tries to play this infinitesimal moment on a loop in her mind, but concentrating on it only ruins it, and she can no longer focus on her mind-created bliss. Even as Kaito pulls up outside her apartment, Maki doesn’t want the night to end.

“Just park up in the car park for a second,” she says.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah…just…park up.”

“Sure.”

Kaito drives his car into the residents’ only car park, and the moment he puts the handbrake on, Maki pulls him into a kiss. It’s a little awkward, since they’re both leaning into each other over the gear stick, but the only sensation she really cares about is the warm feeling of his lips on hers, of the desperation and emotion that she can’t rationalise into anything other than _this,_ and she loves it.

It’s almost a heartbreak to pull away after a few minutes.

“I’ve…wanted to do that all night,” Kaito says.

“Me too,” she replies.

“So…” he says, “wanna do it again?”

“Hell yeah.”

Once more, they fall into each other in an awkward, completely perfect kiss. His hands are on her face; hers on his neck, and the darkness of the car park in the strange pre-midnight liminality gives them the privacy they need to be free of everything but each other.

After the kiss finishes, Maki slowly reaches for the door handle, unbuckling her seatbelt and letting herself out. Before she closes the door, she leans inside and grabs Kaito’s hand for a quick moment.

“See you on Monday,” she says.

“Yeah,” Kaito says absentmindedly, “see you soon.”

As he drives off and she waves him away, she supresses the urge to run up to her apartment with a smile on her face and without a care in the world. Instead, she keeps herself composed as she usually does, having allowed herself a moment of impulsive happiness.

Back in her apartment, she falls onto her bed and pulls her phone out of her pocket. She has a text from Rantaro, telling her that he got home safe, which she makes a mental note to respond to tomorrow, with all the details of her night with Kaito. Putting her phone on charge and getting into her pyjamas, she gets into bed feeling happy for the first time in what feels like forever. When her phone vibrates, she sees a text from Kaito, and her face breaks out into a smile.

 **< From Kaito: 11:43> **this was so fun!!! we should do it again sometime? :D

 **< To Kaito: 11:43> **With or without Kokichi and Shuichi, haha?

 **< From Kaito: 11:44> **without obviously!

 **< To Kaito: 11:44> **With or without the goodnight kiss?

 **< From Kaito: 11:44> **ideally, with ;)

 **< To Kaito: 11:45> **Are you asking me on a date?

 **< From Kaito: 11:46> **depends, are you going to say yes??

 **< To Kaito: 11:46> **You’ll have to ask to find out ;)

 **< From Kaito: 11:47> **okay. maki roll – will you go on a date with me?

She types out “Of course, I’d love to,” and then backspaces the whole message.

 **< To Kaito: 11:48> **Yes.

 **< From Kaito: 11:49> **:D :D :D i’ll think of cool places to take you and we’ll talk about it on monday!! night maki roll!!!

 **< To Kaito: 11:50> **Night, Kaito x

She puts her phone back on her bedside table and tries to settle down to sleep. When she hears it vibrate again, she wonders what Kaito has to say now – maybe date ideas? Her mind wonders if he’s going to say he loves her, but she dismisses the thought as nothing more than imagination and wishing.

Still smiling, she picks up her phone to check the text. But it isn’t from Kaito.

 **< From Angie: 11:53> **Can you come over? It’s Himiko. She’s tried to kill herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed that cliffhanger ;)
> 
> Thanks for all the comments on this, by the way! I really appreciate and reply to every single one of them, and I know some of you have been reading since I first posted Chapter One back in November. I love you all so much. You deserve the whole entire universe.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maki has to deal with the aftermath of what Himiko did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This chapter discusses suicide. If this in any way triggers you, feel free not to read. You'll still understand the momoharu plot if you skip this chapter. Be safe, I love you.

The numbness that sparks in Maki’s fingers flies up her arms, seeping grey antimatter into every fragile moment of her existence. Her happiness, now a ghost in a juxtaposed wasteland, flies from her stomach, all the way up her throat, escaping in a sickening rush of excess oxygen from her mouth; her heart is static, flickering between existence and non-existence, like a scale almost-but-not-quite zeroing out. All that she can focus on is the word ‘tried’.

Himiko _tried_ to kill herself.

She might not have succeeded.

Still, Maki finds it so hard to rely on something as simple and easily influenced as wording when her whole body is shaking in fear; her throat is closing up and she’s already begun to blame herself – of course this must be her fault. Having allowed herself to get too caught up in her own pathetic happiness, she must have failed to notice the warning signs, she must have brought this tragedy upon Himiko by seeping all the happiness away from her best friend.

 _“It’s all my fault,”_ she thinks, pushing her fingers so hard into her phone screen to call Angie that her screen begins to warp into a myriad of sickening colours that shouldn’t break through the surface in the way that they do.

“Angie,” she whispers once the phone stops ringing, “is she okay?”

“Maki,” Angie’s voice breaks, and Maki can’t convince herself that bad signal or connection is to blame, “please come.”

“Is she alive? Fuck. Shit. Angie, please.”

“S-She’s alive.”

“Where are you?”

“We just…I just…Gonta went with her in the ambulance and I’m just…can you pick me up?”

“Are you still at home?”

“Y-Yeah.”

“Okay. I’ll be there in a minute. She’ll be okay, Angie,” Maki says, trying more than anything to convince herself of the truth that might hide buried within this lie.

“I-I hope so.”

Putting the phone down, she doesn’t even bother to change out of her pyjamas; she only grabs a jacket and her keys, and runs out of the door. Halfway down the stairs, she almost pauses to think about whether she locked her apartment, but she realises that she doesn’t care – her only priority right now is Himiko.

* * *

 

She speeds down the streets on autopilot, not thinking about red lights and pedestrians, focusing instead on the fact that her best friend could be lying, half-dead, in some horrible hospital gown that will no doubt make her itchy and sore.

Outside the house, she hits the brake so hard that she jerks forward in her seat, but she doesn’t care; she runs into the house and finds Angie slumped against the hallway wall, sobbing into her hands.

“Angie?”

“Maki,” she says, looking up; her face is streaked with almost-dried tears, “I don’t know what to do.”

Before Maki can respond, Angie’s phone starts ringing. She seems too scared to answer, so Maki sits down next to her and accepts the call, putting it on speaker. It’s Gonta.

“Angie,” Gonta says, “are you there?”

“She’s here. It’s Maki, I’m here too.”

“Oh, hello Maki. We’re at Hope Hospital. The doctor said she’s going to be okay. They put a…sort of…tube up her nose because she was…I mean…she wasn’t…she was unconscious.”

“H-How is she now?” Angie asks.

“Gonta thinks she’ll be okay,” he says, “because the doctor told Gonta that she can make a full recovery. She’s still sleeping…we should let her sleep.”

“That’s a good idea,” Maki says, “we’ll be there as soon as we can.”

Putting the phone down, she lets Angie lay her head in her lap for a moment. Her audible sobs punctuate Maki’s mind, and Maki wonders why she herself isn’t crying; of course, she’s confused, and scared, but tears just don’t seem to be coming to her, and perhaps that’s a good thing. She needs to be the strong one, now. Thinking back to how she relied on Kaito when she was at her worst, she realises that she needs to emulate that strength for Himiko, Angie, and Gonta’s sakes.

“Hey, Angie,” she says, “Himiko is going to be okay. You heard Gonta – she’ll be fine.”

Angie looks up. For the first time, Maki realises just how broken she seems; there’s traces of vomit on her jacket, and she wonders whether it’s Angie’s or Himiko’s – the thought makes her feel like she’s going to be sick, too.

“Listen,” she says, “we need to take care of you before we go to the hospital. There’s nothing we can do now for Himiko, she’s in better hands than ours. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

Angie nods. In the silence of the darkened hallway, with the faint smell of vomit and the heavy humidity of a house of tragedy, Maki wonders how Angie’s God could possibly be good if he willingly let so much tragedy hit one family, who never did anything wrong. The thought that Angie, Gonta, and Himiko are a family breaks something within Maki, and the urge to cry suddenly rears its head, but she supresses it the same way she supresses everything else – by pretending that it doesn’t exist.

When they break through the threshold to Angie’s bedroom, Maki notices how much lighter it is compared to Himiko’s; the curtains are open, and everywhere smells fresh and airy. It’s eerily unfitting.

“Let me get you some fresh clothes,” Maki says, “just sit on the bed. You’re going to be fine.”

“I-It’s not me you need to w-worry about,” Angie sobs, “I feel selfish.”

Leaving the wardrobe doors wide open, Maki crosses the room and kneels down so that she’s at the same height as Angie, who’s sitting on the bed.

“Listen to me. I can guarantee you that right now, there’ll be a team of doctors who’ve trained for _years_ to deal with Himiko’s exact situation. And they’ll be working tirelessly to make sure she’s okay. Gonta’s there, he’s got all her information, and there’s nothing more that they need to make her better again. Whether you’re here or there, you can’t change the situation. What you _can_ do is make sure that _you’re_ okay, so that when Himiko wakes up and sees you, she sees the wonderful, positive Angie that she’s always relied on, okay?”

“Mm-hmm,” Angie nods, not sounding entirely convinced.

“Come on,” Maki says, pulling a t-shirt and some shorts out of Angie’s wardrobe and shutting the door, “put these on.”

She turns her back as Angie gets changed. Once she’s finished, Maki leads her to the bathroom.

“There’s still some…vomit in your hair. I’ll wash it out.”

Angie puts her head over the sink as Maki lets the water run over her hair, gently combing shampoo through it with her fingers; there’s something cathartic about taking care of other people that makes her feel genuinely useful. Once all the bubbles are gone, she turns the tap off and leads Angie by the hand back into the bedroom. She suspects that Angie really wants someone to tell her what to do right now; normally, she’s so headstrong and positive, but right now, she probably just wants someone to guide her through this, because her God has failed her.

“Do you want to say a prayer for Himiko?” Maki asks. It’s completely uncharacteristic of her to bring religion into any conversation, but she knows that Angie’s whole existence is reliant on the fact that she has to believe in something. If that belief ever fails, Maki thinks that Angie may never fully recover from it.

“I-I’d like that,” Angie replies.

Together, on Angie’s bedroom floor, they kneel and clasp their hands. Maki lets Angie take the lead in prayer.

“Atua,” Angie says, “please give your strength and grace to Himiko in her…recovery. Please let her be okay. I’ll do anything. Please let her be okay.”

Maki breaks her clasped hands to hold Angie’s. Angie keeps talking, murmuring vague words to a God that Maki doesn’t believe exists. Eventually, she stops, and turns to look at Maki.

“Will you dry my hair please?”

“Of course,” Maki says, pushing thoughts of Kaito out of her mind, and of her role-reversal that she’s beginning to accept.

As she’s running her hands through Angie’s hair, she starts to think of Himiko; she questions whether she’s doing the right thing by helping Angie before going to the hospital. She knows, obviously, that Himiko would feel terrible if her friends turned up to see her looking like hell, and she thinks that Himiko needs everyone to put on a brave face, but there’s something jarring in finding out that her best friend tried to commit suicide, and not being immediately there beside her. All she can do is remember that Himiko is asleep, and she won’t know whether Maki and Angie are there or not. But she still feels sick, like she’s the human embodiment of disappointment.

Once they’re done, she looks at Angie.

“They’re probably not going to let us in to see Himiko until the morning,” she says, “so you should get some rest.”

“Will you stay with me?”

“Of course. I’ll be right here. And we’ll go and see her first thing in the morning.”

“Okay,” Angie says, and gets into bed; Maki gets in beside her. Although Angie, exhausted from emotions and crying, falls asleep against her shoulder almost instantaneously, Maki spends the night restlessly toying with the idea of sleeping, settling only for staring at the ceiling, trying to find something in the detail of the paint.

* * *

 

In the morning, they both wake early, and get ready in silence.

“Are you ready?”

“I-I think so,” Angie says.

“Come on. We can drive there, but we don’t have to get out of the car until you’re…until _we’re_ ready.”

“Okay.”

Maki makes sure that Angie has buckled her seatbelt before setting off. The silence of her muted radio permeates the air in the car, so she turns the volume up slightly and occasionally flits her eyes over to Angie, resting her head on the window; but mostly, she keeps her eyes on the road. For some reason, her mind can’t stop flooding with thoughts of Tenko.

When they arrive at the hospital, Maki parks up and squeezes Angie’s hand.

“We’ll wait for as long as you need,” she says.

“T-Thank you. I just don’t know if I can…see her like this. Not yet, anyway.”

“I know what you mean. I’m scared too, Angie.”

“Can I tell you something?”

“Sure,” Maki says.

“I think I…I mean…I…I love Himiko.”

“What?”

“Like…in the same way Tenko loved…no, _loves_ …her. And I keep positive for her but I…I hate that she’ll never love me like that. I’m so selfish, aren’t I?”

“It’s not selfish. I…know what you mean. It’s scary to love someone like that. But it’s nothing bad, Angie.”

“I-It’s just…she loves Tenko so much. I think…I think she wanted to die to be with Tenko again, and I’m sat here feeling terrible because everything I feel is unrequited.”

“Come on. You might not be her lover, but you’re for sure her friend. And she’ll need you when she wakes up.”

“Y-Yeah. You’re right. Let’s go inside.”

As they walk through the doors of the hospital, Maki storms to the desk.

“We’re here to see Himiko Yumeno,” she says, “are they letting her have visitors?”

“At the moment, it’s family only.”

“I’m her sister, and this is her…fiancée,” she says, gesturing to Angie.

“Very well, she’s in room B209, second floor.”

“Thank you,” Maki says.

As she leads Angie up to Himiko’s room, Angie pulls Maki aside.

“Why did you say…I was…?”

“Impulse, I guess,” Maki replies, “but it got us in, didn’t it?”

“I suppose. It just…sounded so nice to hear it.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t think…”

“It’s okay. It didn’t make me sad. Well…I’m already sad,” Angie says quietly, and they continue walking.

When they reach Himiko’s room, Maki sees Gonta inside; it’s a private room, as opposed to a more communal one, and she wonders how bad Himiko must have been for her condition to warrant her own room. Still, she pushes the door open and Gonta lifts his head.

“Maki! Angie! The doctor said she should be waking up soon,” he says, “isn’t that good?”

“Yeah, Gonta, it’s good,” Maki says.

Angie immediately sits on the vacant chair next to Himiko, her eyes focused solely on her friend, lying unresponsive on the hospital bed. The sight breaks Maki’s heart, and she looks at Gonta, signalling with her hand that he should step outside with her.

“Angie, we’re gonna give you some time alone with her,” Maki says, “okay? I think you need it.”

Angie nods.

Once Maki and Gonta have left the room, she leads him out of the hospital altogether, walking a little while down the street until she finds a shop. Rummaging in her jacket pockets, she’s glad that she finds some spare money in there; having forgotten to bring her purse in her hasty, terrified rush to leave the apartment, she’s thankful that she can still buy cigarettes. Getting some from the shop, she stands outside and lights one.

“How are you holding up?”

“Me?” Gonta replies.

“Yeah,” she says.

“Oh…uh, not good.”

“What happened? I mean…with Himiko, obviously.”

“Gonta found her. Angie and Gonta were coming in from going to the shops and the house was silent and…Angie went into the bathroom and Himiko was…lying there in the bathtub. Gonta thought she was sleeping at first but…Angie said she was sick. There was an empty bottle of pills and…can you keep a secret?”

“Yeah.”

“Gonta found a note on the counter, and I swiped it up before Angie could see. It would…upset her.”

“Oh.”

“I feel awful.”

“It was probably for the best,” Maki says, “but why have you stopped referring to yourself in third person?”

“Oh…I…Gonta didn’t…I didn’t realise. I guess…I don’t want to be me right now.”

“That’s understandable. I think we’re all pretty shaken up. Can I see the note?”

“I’d like you to see it,” Gonta says, “because I read it, and I don’t know whether to show Angie or not. I’ll…let you decide.”

Gonta reaches into the pocket of his large coat and passes a piece of paper to Maki. Unfolding it, she begins to read.

_“To Everyone,_

_I’m sorry. I guess I should say that first. I don’t want any of you to be sad; it’s awful, but I don’t care anymore. You shouldn’t blame yourselves, you should blame me. I’m at the point where I don’t care if you blame me. I just want everything to be over. Every single day, I drag myself out of my bed and I feel how cold it is without Tenko there, and I just want to be with her again. Fuck, I want to be with someone again. And now…I feel like I’m disappointing her, because I thought I could be happy again, and then I realised that I can never be happy without her, it wouldn’t be fair. Because she deserved to have a happy life filled with love, and I should be the one dead in that crash. And I’m not. I’m alive, and I don’t want to be. I need to kill myself so that I don’t disappoint her any more._

_Himiko._

_P.S. Dear Angie,_

_I’m especially sorry to you. Because I know you’ll feel like this is your fault. I’m being honest now, because it’s the last chance I’ll ever get to be honest with you. For a few weeks now, I’ve felt that my feelings towards you have been…changing. I’ve started to…I guess, love you. And I feel awful because I feel like I’m being unfaithful to Tenko, and I don’t want to live without her, but I don’t want to live without you, either. Dying is just my only option at this point. I can’t go on disappointing everyone like this. I wish things had been different – I wish Tenko was still alive, or I wish that she was alive and happy with someone else so that I wouldn’t hate myself every time I look at you. You don’t deserve this. If I can ask you one thing, I just want to ask that you don’t be mad at me. I wish I could have been better.”_

Maki grips the note in her hands, all the built-up tears flowing freely down her face now. To think that Himiko was so emotionally torn, and that Maki didn’t even _notice,_ breaks her heart. She must have been so confused, so conflicted; Maki thinks that Himiko didn’t really want to die per se, she must have just wanted to end her life before she caused conflict between herself, her dead lover, and Angie. It’s so selfless, so simple, and so terribly tragic.

Finishing her cigarette, she wordlessly motions to Gonta to follow her back inside. Before they go into Himiko’s room, she gives him a quick hug.

“Thank you,” she whispers to him, “and I think you should show Angie that note. If anything, she deserves to know.”

Inside the room, Himiko is awake. She’s talking weakly to Angie, who’s holding her hand so tightly that Maki wonders if it’ll ever be possible for her to let go.

“Maki…Gonta…” Himiko says weakly, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologise,” Gonta says.

“Yeah,” Maki tells her, “we’re all just glad you’re alive.”

“Guys…could I talk to Maki…please?” Himiko says.

“Of course,” Angie says, although she looks sad when she lets go of Himiko’s hand. Once she and Gonta have left the room and the door has closed behind them, Maki sits beside Himiko’s bed. Her hand is still outstretched, seemingly searching for Angie’s, so Maki holds it, feeling like she’s a subpar substitute.

“I read your note,” she says.

“Oh.”

“Angie didn’t.”

“Oh.”

“I think…I think Gonta is going to show her.”

“Oh god, no, he can’t…she’ll think I’m so selfish. She’ll think I’m awful, Maki, you have to stop it, please.”

“Himiko, she loves you.”

“What?”

“She told me in the car. She loves you.”

“But…I…Tenko…she can’t…not me…she deserves better.”

“She loves _you,_ Himiko. And you deserve to have love in your life. It’s what Tenko would want.”

“You really think so?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s funny you say that…because I saw her,” Himiko says.

“You…saw Tenko?”

“Yeah. After I took all the pills, I was in this weird, like, dream. I could still see the bathroom, and everything, but Tenko was kneeling by the bath…stroking my hair, telling me I was going to be okay. And I was crying, and she said…she said she knew.”

“She knew?”

“She knew that I liked Angie. And she said it was okay. She said she wants me to be happy. She said that she’d rather I was happy with someone else than sad alone.”

“That sounds like our Tenko,” Maki says, with a sad smile.

“But…was it real? I mean…Tenko is…”

“I know. But you knew her better than anyone. If the Tenko in your mind is telling you that she’s okay with you loving Angie…then I think the real Tenko would agree.”

“That’s…I never thought of it like that,” Himiko says.

“I think Tenko would be okay with you and Angie. Because it’s not really forgetting her, is it? You’ll never forget her, and there’ll always be a place in your heart for her. That’s all you can really do.”

“I suppose you’re right.”

A nurse opens the door. “Visiting hours are over now,” she says, “but we’ve decided that your fiancée can stay with you for longer, Himiko.”

“My…” Himiko starts to say, but Maki shoots her a look. As the nurse closes the door, Maki smiles at her best friend.

“I may have told a little white lie at the desk to get us in. Go get her, Himiko.”

With that, she leaves, walking away with Gonta as she sees Angie enter the room again.

“I’ll give you a lift home,” she says to him.

“Thanks.”

They sit in silence on the drive back. There’s nothing that can really be said in this situation. Maki guesses that they’re all processing it in different ways, but she has to have faith that Angie and Himiko will work things out, for both of their sakes. She suspects that they won’t start dating immediately, not when Himiko is so fragile, but having all of their feelings out in the open has to be a good thing.

* * *

 

Once she’s dropped Gonta off and driven back to her own apartment, she slides down against her door and starts to cry. Everything is so overwhelming. Since she drove to Angie in her pyjamas last night, she borrowed one of Gonta’s large t-shirts to go to the hospital, and now she balls the excess fabric up in her fists and wipes her eyes with it.

The fact that Himiko is alive is all she can comfort herself with right now. And she’s thankful that she wasn’t the one to discover Himiko; just the thought of seeing her, lifeless and half-dead in that bathtub, haunts her imagination – she can’t imagine how Angie and Gonta must be dealing with that scarring mental image.

Normally, in situations like this, she’d want to be alone. Now, all she wants is the exact opposite.

She finds her phone where she left it on her bed. It’s running out of charge, so she plugs it in and toys between Rantaro and Kaito’s phone numbers. On one hand, Rantaro is always a good, level-headed, calm person to rely on in times of distress, but on the other, Kaito provides the sort of comfort that she feels like she needs right now. The option of calling Shuichi flickers through her mind, and she genuinely considers it for a second, before remembering that depression and suicide are tough topics for him, and she doesn’t want to make him feel bad by bringing up things that could potentially hinder his attempts at recovery from mental illness.

It takes her at least ten minutes to decide. Every time she almost calls one of them, she doubts herself, and puts her phone back in her lap to muse for a little longer on the best course of action.

Whilst her thumb hovers over the ‘call’ button in Kaito’s contact information, she finds herself shaking, and accidentally presses it. Almost as if the universe decided for her.

Bringing the phone to her ear, it’s not long before he answers.

“Maki Roll! Nice to hear from you,” he says, his voice cheery; of course, he has no idea of how awful the past day has been.

“K-Kaito,” she sobs, “my best friend tried to…can you just…make me laugh or something. I don’t know.”

“What’s happened?”

“Fuck, I can’t say it out loud…Himiko…she tried to…I mean…”

“Do you wanna come over?”

“Kinda.”

“I have alcohol and cigarettes and I’m willing to listen to you for as long as it takes.”

“Yeah…I think…I need that.”

“I’ll pick you up.”

“I can drive.”

“You’re not driving in this state, Maki Roll. I’ll be there soon.”

“Thank you,” she whispers.

Putting the phone down, she tries to stop crying, but nothing works to curb the flow of tears down her face. She imagines that she looks terrible, red faced and snotty, wearing a t-shirt that goes down to her knees and a pair of baggy trousers that she thinks also belong to Gonta. Her hair is tangled and un-brushed, but she doesn’t care; all she wants right now is for someone to accept her sadness, take it in, and love her despite it. Perhaps Angie and Himiko have awakened something within her, but all she can think of is how fragile everything in the whole damn world is. So easily shattered.

And yet, she wants to fall into the glass dome of the universe, and let the broken shards pierce her as they fall, like shooting stars or misguided missiles, right into the heart of the earth. It’s a complete lack of control, and she thinks that it always ends in death; timelessly, inevitably.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed the unraveling of that cliffhanger! Poor Himiko...she deserves better. It's kind of like in Chapter Three when she doesn't care if everyone votes for her because she's so tired of everything.
> 
> (Also, we're nearly at 100 comments on this! That's huge, thank you all SO much!)
> 
> My wonderful, amazing, kind friend Sy also drew fanart of this fic! It's so beautiful and I'm so grateful! Check it out [here](https://twitter.com/10soyacchi/status/975558896856150016)! :^)


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maki needs comfort, and she finds that getting drunk with Kaito will make her open up emotionally.

Maki remains curled up in a ball as time passes her by; she imagines that, as she’s trapped in a timeless bubble of sadness and confusion, Kaito is driving towards her. With every thick, solemn second that passes, her only solace is in thinking that he’s getting closer to her, and that he’ll finally be able to get through to her. It’s her vulnerability, this state of emotional instability, that cracks her walls, and she can’t exactly pinpoint whether she’s unhappy that they’re coming down. It just seems so ridiculous right now to even care about herself, and about letting other people in, when Himiko nearly _died_ and she’s confronting the fragility of death with all the choking terror of someone who’s been wilfully ignorant their whole life.

The sound of the apartment buzzer going off just outside her bedroom breaks her out of this, and she shakily gets to her feet, wiping her eyes as she walks towards her front door. She presses the button to let Kaito up, and remains frozen in her spot for the entire time it takes him to walk up the stairs; completely dazed, she doesn’t exactly know how many minutes have passed when he knocks on the door and she lets him in.

Immediately, she falls into his arms, taking him slightly off guard, but he balances himself as he catches her. She notices that he shuts the door behind him, even though she’s buried into his chest; he’s holding her up, and she knows she’s dead weight. _Dead_ weight. The word echoes around her mind and forces sobs up and out of her throat. The idea of pulling away from him and walking to her bedroom hurts her – she needs the closeness right now, but she doesn’t want to be too dependent on him, standing awkwardly by her own front door as he holds her close. Kaito seems to realise this too, and he sweeps her off her feet and carries her to her bedroom.

When he sets her down on the bed, he sits next to her and holds her hand.

“M-My best friend,” Maki chokes out, “tried to…kill herself.”

“Oh,” Kaito says, “I’m…shit, Maki Roll, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. She’s…she’s alive, at least. I just…I can’t…it’s just…”

“I know. Processing shit like this is hard. I get it.”

“I-I don’t want to be here,” she sobs.

“Come on, let’s pack some clothes and you can come and stay at mine.”

Maki doesn’t have the heart to tell him that _‘here’_ meant _alive, on this planet,_ and not physically in her apartment. But still, she knows that if anything is going to cheer her up, it’ll be Kaito and his unyielding optimism – although he doesn’t seem to be very positive right now; it’s like there’s something he’s not telling her. Something relating to her situation, and the thought scares her, even though it sits at the back of her mind, not a primary worry right now.

He helps her to her feet and over towards her wardrobe, where she haphazardly shoves some clothes in a bag. Remembering that she’s still wearing Gonta’s t-shirt and trousers, she also packs some pyjamas, and then gives up halfway and collapses onto the floor. Everything is weighing down on her; Himiko’s suicide attempt, Angie’s confession, Gonta’s reaction – she feels responsible for them all. They’re her _family,_ and she let herself get too happy and consequently didn’t notice them suffering. Fuck. She’s _worthless._

The world is crushing down upon her, and she’s letting it.

The thoughts of her friends in pain distort in her mind, becoming thick with imaginary blood that she can never scrub away, and it’s like she’s back in the orphanage again, waiting for the next punishment to wash over her. She knows now that the worst part of pain is waiting for it, in the tiny microsecond before her nerves catch up to her actions, when her breath is stuck in her throat like airy bile; the worst part is always the _waiting._

Her breath comes ragged and uneven, short bursts of what she imagines to be not enough oxygen; her nails scratch at her scalp as she pulls at her hair. Everything feels like it’s underwater, even Kaito’s voice – saying words that she can’t fully make out – comes in her ears as muffled; like she exists on a different plane to everybody else. She’s just a second out of time with the rest of the universe, too late to save Himiko, too late to ever do anything meaningful.

Sickness bursts in her throat and she feels like she’s going to throw up, but her empty stomach just makes her dry heave. It’s almost as if she’s outside in the cold, with the way her skin feels clammy, and now she’s thinking of how things were… _before…_ and now the panic is building even further, weighing down on her like she’s tied to the bottom of the ocean, with every single blood cell in her body bursting due to lack of oxygen as the aching cold of saltwater pushes down on her body and…

“Hey, breathe,” she hears Kaito’s voice through the dark of her mind, “hold my hand, and breathe.”

Faintly, she feels a hand slip into her own.

“Squeeze my hand and breathe in, okay?”

Somehow, she manages to nod. As she tries her hardest to breathe in, she digs her nails into Kaito’s palm, instinctively trying to ground herself back to reality.

“There we go, you’re doing fine,” Kaito says, “just breathe in with the sound of my voice, and hold it for a bit, then we’ll breathe out together, yeah?”

She tries this, and strangely enough, it does help to regulate her panic. Still, she can’t move, but she’s getting progressively better as she begins to breathe steadier. Slowly, she raises her hand to Kaito’s chest, and feels the rhythm of his breathing, trying to emulate it in her own lungs; that’s all she is, a _fraud,_ a parasite bringing out the worst in the people who trust her – her mind locks onto this thought, and panic begins to wash over her again. She’s the reason Himiko nearly died, she’s the reason Kaito has had to drive to hers when he could be spending his time doing something more worthwhile; she truly believes that she just leeches off other people, and it _hurts_ because she doesn’t know how to stop.

“Hey, Maki Roll, come on. You’re nearly there. Keep breathing.”

“I-I c-can’t,” she chokes out – he needs to _understand_ that she doesn’t deserve his blind optimism or his kindness.

“Yes, you can. You just need something to focus on – hey, listen to me, okay? You’re going to be fine. Whatever you’re thinking about can wait. Just focus on my voice and keep breathing, yeah? Keep squeezing my hand – that’s it – I know you can do it.”

Something in her shifts, and for a second, she trusts him. Not blindly, and not completely, but there’s something there that pulls her momentarily out of her panic, and she can breathe again. Shallowly, cautiously, but breathing nonetheless. And she holds his hand, squeezing it until she remembers that she’s real; when she opens her eyes, the world is still there.

“There ya go, Maki Roll,” Kaito says, “you did it.”

“I-I…thank you.”

“No problem. Now come on, I think you need a drink.”

“D-Definitely.”

* * *

 

As he leads her by the hand out of her apartment building and towards his car, she notices how he doesn’t let go, not even for a second. It’s the little things like this that she’s thankful for, how he seems to genuinely care about her – but that’s how he is with everyone, and her cynical anxiety tells her that he doesn’t love her, he just loves how he can support her. But whatever it is, be it love or selfish optimism, she likes how warm his hand feels in hers, and that’s good enough for now.

In his car, she leans back in the passenger seat and closes her eyes. She feels absolutely pathetic, relying on somebody else instead of sorting out her problems herself. And, thinking about it, she’s sure that Kaito must have problems of his own, too, but somehow he manages to push all of that aside to be there for everybody else; her admiration for him in this moment makes her feel sick. She makes a mental note to ask him how he is, and then she lets the gentle jostling of the car lull her into a semi-sleep.

Before she knows it, Kaito’s hand is on her arm, gently rousing her from her uncomfortable rest.

“We’re here,” he says. As she’s unbuckling her seatbelt, he gets out of the car and opens the passenger side door for her. He holds her hand again as they walk up to his apartment, not saying a word, but constantly looking over his shoulder to check on her. Once they’re inside, he silently pulls a bottle of whiskey from under his kitchen counter and pulls the top off, taking a long swig and passing the bottle to her as they make their way onto the balcony.

“How did you…know what to do?” Maki asks.

“What d’you mean?”

“I mean like…when I was…y’know…how did you know what to do?”

“Oh. Uh…Shuichi used to have panic attacks a lot. We were roommates for a bit, when his uncle kept going out of the country for business, before he started dating Kokichi. He stayed with me for a couple months, because things were…bad.”

“Bad?”

“You know how he is.”

“Yeah. I thought he was…I mean…I thought he was getting better?”

“Nah, he is. Slowly, but he’s not like he was last year. You said Himiko tried to kill herself, right?”

Kaito pulls a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and offers one to Maki. As they take alternating swigs from the bottle of whiskey, they light up and sit on the floor of the balcony.

“Yeah,” Maki says, “last night. I was at the hospital with her…god, was it really just yesterday that things were…so good?”

“Time’s fucked,” Kaito replies, “especially in times like this. But I get it, y’know? Shuichi…well, he tried once, too.”

“I never knew.”

“He didn’t say anything. I doubt he’d mind you knowing, though.”

“When?”

“Last year. When he was…staying with me. I…god, Maki Roll, it was horrible.”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t push you.”

“No, no, it’s fine. I mean, I haven’t talked about it since…y’know? Not even with him. We just pretend it didn’t happen.”

“Were you and him ever…close? Like, romantically?”

“Oh, you could tell, huh? Nah, we weren’t. It was…weird…but not romantic. I mean, it was something we thought about, but it was never gonna work. After the whole…suicide thing…I mean, it wasn’t healthy. Even he’d admit that. He kinda idolised me – I guess it was his way of…coping with the fact that I saved him? And, well, I’ve got this weird hero complex, so I lapped it up like the attention was gonna make me a saviour. It wasn’t great.”

“I think this is like, the first time you’re genuinely opening up to me.”

“Yeah,” Kaito says, quietly, “I guess it is. I probably…trust you.”

“I trust you too.”

“I’m gonna…go get us a blanket,” Kaito says, standing up. Maki senses something awkward in the air, and she wonders if this is what it feels like to be intimate with someone; she’s unsure if she hates it as much as she’s always anticipated she would.

When he comes back outside, holding two pillows and a blanket, she notices that he sits much closer to her now than he was before. Instinctively, she rests her head on his shoulder.

“I’m not scared of dying,” she says, “but I’m scared of being alone. That’s weird, huh?”

“Nah,” he replies, “I’m the same. I guess…having my grandparents as parental figures kinda hits hard in that way. They’re gonna die while I’m still young, and I’m not ready for that.”

“Huh. I wonder what we’d be like if we had parents, right?”

“It’s weird to even think about. Like, life could be so different, but it’s not, is it? We’ve only got one path, and it’s built on the choices we make. I guess what I can take from that is…I’m really glad I met you, Maki Roll.”

“I’m glad I met you too, Kaito.”

“Don’t tell anyone about the Shuichi thing. It’s…weird. I mean, he wouldn’t mind you knowing. He just feels awkward whenever stuff like that is brought up.”

“Yeah, don’t worry, I won’t.”

“He took time off work, said it was a holiday. I don’t even know if he’s told Kokichi yet.”

“I wouldn’t tell Kokichi if I was him,” Maki says, “I don’t even know why they’re dating.”

“Yeah, it’s weird,” Kaito replies, “I still don’t know if they’re good for each other. Like, Shuichi’s got this horrible destructive streak, so at first I thought he might be going after Kokichi as a really elaborate form of self-punishment. But it’s not really like that now. I guess, in a really convoluted way, Kokichi’s whole…demeanour…makes Shuichi re-examine himself?”

“How so?”

“Well, you know how he’s always lying, and you know how Shuichi’s mind works overtime trying to figure everything out, right? I suppose…the only thing Shuichi feels confident with is his ability to work out mysteries, and he’s practically dating one, so I guess in a way they work well together.”

“It does seem like a ticking time bomb at times though, doesn’t it?”

“Oh, yeah, absolutely. I don’t think Shuichi’s in the best mental state to date anyone right now, but I don’t think he’s gonna change any time soon, either. Besides, he’s an adult, he can make his own choices. I’ve just gotta be there for him at the end of the day, right?”

“You’re there for everyone,” Maki says, “isn’t that tiring?”

“Not really. It’s what I rely on. Like…people rely on me, I rely on their perception of me. Sorry, that was…weird. It’s weird opening up.”

“Kaito, you’ve done enough for me. The least I can do is accept you for who you are.”

“Thanks,” he sighs, “I just…it’s all fucked, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, I’ll drink to that,” Maki raises the whiskey bottle and takes a long swig, burning her throat, but smiling as she feels the sharp alcohol go down, “I wanna be reckless. Y’know, feel something.”

“Me too. I always wanna just…get in a fight. Drink until I pass out. Do some really dodgy drugs.”

“Why don’t we?”

“’Cause doing it alone is one thing. But I’d never let you get into that situation. I’d feel awful.”

“Yeah, but like you said about Shuichi, I’m an adult – I make my own choices.”

“Maki Roll, if you wanna walk out that door right now and go and do something stupid, then I’ll follow you. I’ll go wherever you go and make sure you’re safe. _Or,_ we could sit out here and get absolutely trashed on cheap whiskey, smoke until our lungs are black, and then pass out in my bed and spend the whole day tomorrow watching crappy movies and nursing our hangovers. The choice is yours.”

“I guess…I’d like to just spend time with you.”

“Thank god. Because going out would require putting proper pants on, and I’m not ready for that,” Kaito laughs. Maki looks down and, for the first time, notices that he’s wearing baggy sweatpants, and she starts to laugh too. It’s probably because of the alcohol, and the emotions running high, but she doesn’t care that she’s laughing loudly and, perhaps, genuinely.

Stumbling a little, Kaito gets up and leans over the balcony. He looks up at the sky, smiling at the stars, before leaning his face on his hands; suddenly, he shoots up and looks over the balcony.

“Shit!”

“What’s up?” Maki says.

“One of my contacts fell out… _fuck.”_

“What, over the balcony?”

“Yeah, goddamn it,” he laughs, “what kinda bad luck is that, right?”

“Wait, can you see?”

“Yeah, I’ve still got one working eye,” he says, turning to walk towards her and immediately bumping into the balcony table.

“Come here, you idiot,” she holds his arm and leads him inside.

He pouts at her. “I wanna sit outside,” he says in a mock-whining voice.

“We’re still gonna sit outside, I’m just getting your glasses.”

“Maki Roll, you’ve seen my glasses, I look like an absolute nerd.”

“It’s cute,” she blushes, hoping that in the dark, with one of his contacts lost to the wind, he can’t see her, “I like them.”

 _“Fine,”_ he whines, jokingly, “but you better not laugh. They’re next to my bed.”

“Sit here,” she motions to the couch, “I’ll be back.”

When she re-enters the room with his glasses in her hand, he takes out his one remaining contact lens and puts the glasses on.

“Cute,” she says, and he laughs.

“Wanna sit outside again?”

“Yeah.”

Back on the balcony, Maki cuddles up to Kaito; she starts to tell herself that she’s only doing it to get warm, but the honesty that’s begun to bubble up within her stops that thought. As if in response to her self-acceptance, Kaito leans down and kisses her head. Smiling, she looks up at him.

“I like this,” she says.

“Me too.”

Just as she’s settling into the comfort of being somewhat happy, the sky above them opens up and begins to pour down with rain; it doesn’t start slowly, it immediately begins to soak them as they rush to open the door and get back inside. Eventually, they find themselves in the living room, but they’re both still reasonably wet. Looking at Kaito, his hair beginning to fall down from its usual style, she laughs.

“Let’s put some music on,” she says, as Kaito heads to the kitchen to get another bottle of whiskey. By now, they’re both suitably drunk, but she’s not depressive in the way that she usually is, so she wants to stay awake long enough to savour this feeling. Kaito turns the radio on and passes the newly opened bottle of whiskey to Maki; just as she takes a gulp, she realises that the song that’s playing is slow, and with a burst of drunken confidence, she stands on her tiptoes and puts her arms around Kaito’s neck. Smiling, he puts his around her waist, and they begin to slow dance around his living room. She closes her eyes and stands on top of his feet as he guides her – he can’t dance, but neither can she, and there’s something beautiful in this clumsy sort of closeness.

Kaito lifts her up and spins her around, and she laughs as they both fall onto the sofa. They look up at the ceiling, dizzy and dazed, as their hands find their way together, and Maki leans her head on Kaito’s shoulder.

“I want to ask you something,” he says, smiling a little and looking down.

“Go on,” she replies.

“Will you…will you be my girlfriend?”

The word _girlfriend_ sounds so nice in his voice, and the whiskey in her stomach makes her whole chest feel light. Reminiscing on the near-past, and her ache to do something reckless, she thinks that, for once, she’s going to let her heart lead her into a decision, instead of her head.

“I think…I’d like that.”

Kaito’s face lights up. He immediately shifts in his seat and hugs her, holding her close; Maki feels _safe_ in his arms, and she cuddles in closer to him.

“Wanna go to bed?” Kaito asks, and she nods. As she gets into her pyjamas, she pauses, holding the t-shirt that she brought with her.

“Since you’re my _boyfriend_ now,” she says, lingering on the word, “I have full monopoly on your closet and I’m gonna wear one of your t-shirts.”

“Be my guest,” he says, “you’d look cute in anything.”

Rifling through his drawer, she finds a dark purple t-shirt, and slips it on, getting into Kaito’s bed next to him.

“Night, Maki Roll,” he says, looking at her and smiling.

“Night, Kaito,” she replies. When he puts one of his arms around her, she curls in closer towards him, letting herself drunkenly fall asleep, completely not alone.

* * *

 

She wakes up, surprisingly, without a hangover. She barely has a moment to question why when she sees the clock on the wall – it’s four in the afternoon, and she’s evidently slept away any remnants of alcohol. As she thinks about last night, she remembers the warm feeling of going to sleep cuddling Kaito, and she becomes painfully aware that she’s in bed alone. And then it hits her – they’d started dating.

She – _Maki Harukawa –_ stone cold, self-proclaimed bitch, had started dating Kaito.

Shit. But, for some unknown reason, she’s okay with that. Or is she? She doesn’t know – her mind is a mess of emotions, like the gates of vulnerability have been opened, letting every repressed feeling flood through. Completely unaware as to whether she’s made the right decision, she slides out of bed and makes her way to Kaito’s bathroom.

“I’m borrowing your toothbrush,” she shouts down the hall, and she hears him shout “okay!” in response.

Once she’s brushed her teeth, she splashes cold water onto her face and walks into the kitchen. She finds Kaito, buttering toast, as a fresh cup of coffee sits on the counter.

“It’s that fancy Starbucks shit you like. I bought a jar the moment I found out you liked it, in case you ever needed some.”

 _“Yeah,” she thinks, “this was definitely the right decision.”_ She smiles.

“Why are you making breakfast at four?”

“’Cause time isn’t real, and I can’t cook anything but toast. Enjoy!”

They take their toast to the sofa, and sit down together, with the TV on in the background.

“You really meant what you said last night?” Kaito asks.

“About being your girlfriend?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah, I did. If you’re still up for it, that is.”

“’Course I am. I opened up to you last night, so I guess there’s no hiding anything anymore.”

“You’re right. Let’s keep it a secret for now though, yeah? I don’t want the whole office buzzing with drama.”

“Good idea. We should probably, like, take it slow, y’know. Make sure you’re okay before rushing into things.”

“Make sure _we’re_ okay, Kaito.”

“Yeah,” he says, smiling, “both of us.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry that this chapter is late! It was the last week of term last week so I had lots to do (exams, tests, and an essay), and then when I got home for easter, I've just been kinda relaxing - and I went to the National Space Centre on Saturday, which was AMAZING! So, since the whole exam-season shit, my writing schedule has been a little bit out of sorts, but I'm back on track now! Again, I'm really sorry for not keeping to schedule - everything will be back to normal now, and if you haven't lost interest in this fic because of this late update, then I'm so thankful!
> 
> Also, my amazing friend Simon drew Maki, and her outfit was inspired by this fic! It's such an amazing art piece, check it out [here](https://twitter.com/luminarystars_/status/973296339231518720)! Honestly, the fact that my writing inspires people is the biggest compliment, and it makes me so happy!
> 
> Updates should be back on track now, although less strict - I'll try to keep to schedule, but since it's Easter break and I'm driving up to uni at some point to pick up a friend to stay with me for a few days, I might update on days that aren't weekends? I don't really know, but I'll sort it out whatever happens and get updates up for you guys! This fic is really fun to write, and the comments are always so lovely to read, so I won't forget about you all - I love you all, from the bottom of my heart!
> 
> Anyway, have a LOVELY day! :D
> 
> (Also, 'Talk Tonight' by Oasis is a mood for this chapter)


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the aftermath of beginning their relationship, both Maki and Kaito are having some issues.

As much as Maki wants the office to be quiet, it somehow isn’t. Although her world has impossibly changed overnight, everyone else seems to be taking calls, typing, making coffee, acting like there hasn’t been a huge schism in the complex of the workplace; and yes, whilst she’s glad that nobody knows, there’s still something missing in her chest. She’s not quite…whole.

Still, even now, she doesn’t believe in the fairy tales that she used to read to the younger children at the orphanage. Princesses aren’t rescued by knights, dragons aren’t real, nobody has hair long enough to climb, and…

And one smile from a wannabe-astronaut won’t suddenly make her not want to rip her flesh off.

She’s read something like this before, in an old poetry book, back when she was completely fine with being alone, and the wind that rattled her bones back then was like a welcome ghost. Ah, yes. She recalls the line.

_“Love wakes the dragon and suddenly flames everywhere.”_

So that’s it, then. Just a waiting game, now, recalling the time before the love, and with baited breath, sitting in the not-quite-ashes and waiting for the flames, like her life is out of her control, sitting as a passenger in a car driven by something much greater than anyone. Greater than her, than Kaito, than this stupid office and these stupid butterflies in her stomach.

Of course, as she always does, she sticks herself fast into her menial work, not thinking of whether she’ll go home alone tonight, of whether she’ll be cooking dinner for one, or two, or foregoing the pots and pans altogether, getting takeout food and watching crappy films and kissing and all that stuff that couples are supposed to do.

Couples. Questions. One is finite, the other infinite, and she cannot tell which.

And strangely, for the first time in a while, she wants to be alone again. Not alone as in _single,_ or _homeless,_ but alone as in sitting in her cubicle, with a cup of lukewarm coffee next to her, and her hands flying over the keys before she can even begin to process thoughts that are more complex than work. She can’t settle – not ever – she just wasn’t born for the white picket fence life; and having tasted it, it will be so much harder to let go of when the inevitable comes and whisks her away.

Not death. She doesn’t fear death. But…something like that. Something like the ragged, gasping breaths of air that sting her throat on cold nights. Something intangible.

* * *

 

Halfway through the day, she finds that she doesn’t want lunch. But she’s got an hour to kill, and she’s conflicted – spend it with Kaito, in the warm comfort of newness, or spend it alone, letting her thoughts slowly rot her, insecurities and all, from the inside out. She’s barely decided on the former when there’s an overwhelming presence at the entrance to her cubicle – not a Kaito presence, something malicious, and she turns to see Kokichi.

“Maki Roll!”

“Don’t call me that,” she says, deadpan, staring at him. He’s holding something, his hand covered by the wall of her cubicle, and she flicks her eyes towards that general direction unwittingly.

“Ooh, got you curious!”

“Fuck off, Kokichi. What do you want?”

“Just delivering a little delivery! Found these at the front desk with your name on and thought it was _soooo_ romantic, I just _had_ to see your face when you got them! They’re not from me, though, that would be disgusting.”

“Stop being a cryptic little shit and get your hands off whatever that is – it’s _mine.”_

“Or I could be lying. I could be holding something disgusting, like a dead bug, and since you said it’s yours…well, I guess if you want your cubicle to be decorated with dead bugs and shit and all that. It’d still probably liven this place up.”

“Put a dead bug in my office and I’ll fucking castrate you.”

“Ouch, Maki Roll! I don’t want _youuuu_ near my dick!”

“Trust me, I want to be as far away from you as possible, Cuntkichi.”

“Hey, no fair! You can’t reuse Miu’s old nicknames for me!”

“Whatever, she hasn’t worked here in months. Anyway, give me whatever you’ve got in your hand and piss off.”

 _“Fiiiiine._ But you owe me one!”

“You realise you literally haven’t done me any favours here? I could have just walked to the front desk and found this thing myself.”

“You still owe me one,” Kokichi says, as he puts down the object just outside of Maki’s eyeline, and runs down the office back to his own cubicle.

“Little shit,” Maki mutters as she gets up from her chair and walks to the outside of her cubicle to find out whatever Kokichi’s mystery package is.

It’s…flowers. A huge bunch of flowers, all picked out in different shades of red; they’re far too well-arranged to have been picked at random from one of the public gardens, instead, they’re neatly wrapped up with a purple bow. Hastily pulling them inside her cubicle, she rips the card from inside them and reads it.

_“Maki. You know who these are from. Xx”_

Damn it. Damn him. She said no grand gestures, and then he goes and does…this? Just as she’d thought she’d begun to understand him, he pulls something out of the bag that completely knocks down everything she’s ever thought she knew. And yes, of course, this isn’t the _normal_ reaction a _normal_ person would have when receiving obviously expensive flowers, but Maki wouldn’t exactly call anything that’s happened in her life so far normal.

She shoves the flowers under her desk so that nobody else can see them and tries to carry on with her work, but her head is swimming. Because if people know that she’s dating Kaito, then it’ll make it so much more awkward to explain when he finally wises up and realises that she’s not a good person, and he inevitably leaves her. And if she has to explain _that_ to people, then it opens up a whole other can of worms surrounding whether Shuichi, and even Himiko and the rest, would even want to stay friends with her.

Because, at the end of it all, Kaito is a good person. And good people leave bad people. It’s just fairy tale logic, and it’s the basis of every life.

_“In this version you are not feeding yourself to a bad man against a black sky prickled with small lights.”_

There are no bad men here. Not anymore – only Maki, left as a remnant of everything that’s happened to her, a screwed-up piece of newspaper from a decade that shouldn’t exist. Trodden over, spat on, dirtied, ruined…that’s her. And she won’t adopt Kaito’s brightness, of course she won’t, because she only spits out venom, and Kaito, the black hole that he is, will suck it all in. He’ll think that he’s taking it out of her wound, but she’s an endless supply, and he’ll just be poisoning himself. She imagines it now, how he’ll leave her, shattered where he once was whole, bloody where he once was kind.

Yes, he will leave her. Like flowers die and people change, Kaito will leave her.

So, she should never have given him that option in the first place. If only she’d have said _no_ when he asked her to be his girlfriend, she’d be hurting, but he’d move on, and that’s all she wants. If she wasn’t so damn selfish, she’d let him go. That’s what you should do to the ones you love.

Maki supposes that this is why she’s still alive. She doesn’t love herself enough to let herself go towards peace...be it death, or otherwise.

But she’s not angry. Not like she thought she’d be. She’s just sad. Sad, because she wishes she was the kind of girl whose heart would leap at the thought of receiving flowers; sad, because she’ll never be loved in a way that fixes her; sad, because love _can’t_ fix her, can’t fix anyone; sad, because she’s still stuck believing that sometimes, it can.

Love cannot heal a broken bone, nor can it undo years of trauma. He can buy her all the flowers he can afford, but their petals won’t act as bandages over everything that makes her who she is. To love her enough to remove her past would be to love her to death, and even Kaito, with his winning smile and huge heart, can’t do that. If loving means taking an eraser to her mind and scrubbing clean all the parts of it that hurt her, he’d be left with a ghost, anyway. And you can’t kiss a ghost. And you can’t love it back to life.

She walks over to Kaito’s cubicle, hoping to talk some sense into him about the whole ‘keeping their relationship a secret’ thing that she’s already mentioned. He’s working away, blissfully unaware that anything at all is wrong, and Maki feels like such a _bitch_ for causing problems so early on in their relationship. Because of course, she has feelings for him, but there’s no logical evidence that she can find to say that he would – or should – ever, _ever_ reciprocate them.

“Hey, Maki Roll,” Kaito says, looking up from his computer.

“Hey. D-Did you…send me flowers?”

“Oh, yeah, uh…yeah.”

“I thought we were gonna keep this secret.”

“I know, I know,” he says awkwardly, “look…should we talk about this someplace else? People might start to suspect something if they see us whispering like this.”

“Yeah…you’re right,” Maki says, nodding her head towards the exit of their floor, “let’s go for a smoke.”

Praying that nobody is in the smoking shelter when they both get outside, Maki finds that it’s, thankfully, empty. She sits down, and tries to light her cigarette, but her lighter won’t spark, and she sighs. Normally, she’d have to walk to the little shop around the corner and buy a new one, but she feels Kaito’s body, close to her, as he cups his hand around her cigarette and lights it for her.

“Look,” he says, avoiding eye contact, “I’m sorry. I know you said about keeping everything quiet and all, but…when you left yesterday, I got a little bit drunk, and I…look, I don’t make good decisions, do I? But if you can just forgive me, I promise I’ll…”

“Kaito, shut up. You bought me flowers, you didn’t even do anything wrong. You know me, I’m the problem here.”

“No! That’s the opposite of what I want you to think. Just…I’m not good at showing people I love them in, like, meaningful ways. And I’ve seen a _lot_ of romcoms in my time, and I just thought…well, y’know, it’s a lot subtler to buy flowers than play music outside your apartment in the rain.”

“It’s also a lot subtler to do nothing at all,” Maki says.

“You sound sad.”

“I’m not.”

“But you are. ‘Cause I fucked up, and it’s on me to fix this.”

“Let’s…find a middle ground, then? No more flowers, but not quite nothing at all either. Like,” Maki looks around to make sure that nobody is watching them, that nobody is even around at all, “this.”

She pulls his cigarette out of where he was balancing it between his lips and kisses him, holding his face as he begins to reciprocate, kissing her until she’s breathless; she moves in, closer, the sweetness of intimacy taking over her, until…

“Ouch!”

“What?” Maki says.

“Oh, nothing, just…”

“C’mon Kaito.”

“You’re still holding my cigarette.”

“Yeah, what about it? Wait, did I burn you?”

“It’s nothing.”

“Let me see. Where?”

Kaito moves his hand onto his neck, carefully showing her the mark – it’s gone white, rather than red, and there’s still ash stuck in it.

“I’m so sorry,” she says, reaching in her bag for an unopened bottle of water, “let me wash it out.”

“Really, Maki Roll, it’s fine.”

“I burned you. I’m not gonna let it get worse. Please? If we’re doing this properly, you have to trust me. It’s alright to be hurt sometimes.”

“Alright.”

She carefully pours water onto the burn, trying not to spill it. There’s a packet of tissues in her bag, and she takes them out to try and clean up the ash from his neck; of course, guilt runs through her whole body, making her practically shake with fear. This, she feels, must be a sign of what’s to come – he will give himself over to her, and as usual, she will ruin things. She’ll take her hands and rip out everything he’s ever loved until he’s just as cynical as she is, and then he’ll leave her because that’s the way things always play out.

Nobody gives a happy ending to wicked witch. Even if she is just an emotionally stunted young woman with a terrible childhood and crippling fears. She stirs the cauldron and has to dance until she dies.

This…this is the dance.

Whilst she’s thinking, her hands act of their own accord, and she fumbles a little, accidentally pouring the water down Kaito’s jacket. He jumps in shock, and she flinches, waiting for his hand to come down hard on her, slap her across the face or push her to the floor. Steeling herself, she imagines that her skin is concrete – like she used to – and tells herself that if she wishes hard enough, nothing can hurt her.

But no blow comes.

Instead, Kaito laughs.

“Thank god it’s sunny, eh?”

“W-What?”

“It’ll dry in no time! Besides, I was getting kinda warm in this anyway.”

“You’re not mad at me?”

“Mad? Why the fuck would I be mad, Maki Roll? It’s only a jacket, and it’s only water. Only assholes and, like, really stuck-up people get mad about shit like this!”

He takes his jacket off and exposes his short-sleeved t-shirt. She smiles when she sees him throw the jacket over the side of the smoking shelter bench like it doesn’t matter at all to him, and when he puts his arm around her, she leans in.

“You still feel bad, don’t you?”

She nods.

“Tell ya what. I’ll forgive you…if you give me one of your cigs. I’m out, and I didn’t get a full smoke outta that last one.”

She takes two out of her packet. They sit there for a little while, his arm still soft on the back of her neck, saying nothing. It’s comfortable this way. For a moment, it’s as if Maki can _truly_ live in the present, and not become caught up in the infinite possibilities of all the days to come, each day a new branch on an unsteady tree; tiny, spiralling infinities that whirl in front of her eyes – there’s no time to be certain, she just has to close her eyes and reach out.

“C’mon,” Kaito says, a few minutes later, “let’s get back inside.”

“Thanks,” she says.

“What for?”

“The flowers.”

* * *

 

It’s just a cup of coffee, that’s all she wants. A quick in-and-out of the kitchen, and then back to her cubicle for the final stretch of work; she’s feeling a little better since talking to Kaito, and now she’s wondering whether she should invite him over tonight, order some food, and just talk. Take things slow, but…talk.

And that’s when she passes by Kaito’s cubicle and hears Shuichi’s voice inside. She’s just small enough not to be seen over the walls, and something within her can’t pull her away from what she assumes is a private conversation.

“I don’t know man,” _that’s Kaito’s voice,_ “I’m just not sure.”

“What, about the dating, or…?” _Shuichi. Maki knows his voice, too._

“I don’t know. It’s like…am I in love with her, or am I in love with the idea of myself being a good person? ‘Cause that’s how she makes me feel. Like a good person.”

“You are a good person.”

“Yeah, keep telling me that Shuichi, I might fall in love with _you.”_

“You…wouldn’t. Anyway, what are you even saying? You’ve been waxing poetic about Maki since she took you home after the Christmas party. And you called me yesterday pretty much screaming about how you’d finally got together with her.”

“I know, bro, I know. And I know what I _want_ to do, but I feel like I’m all over the place. Like, I asked her out when I was _drunk._ Who does that? A fucking idiot, that’s who.”

“So…you regret asking her out? Look, Kaito, I know my uncle is a detective and all, but you’re gonna have to give me more to help me figure this one out.”

“No…I mean…it’s not that I regret asking her out, it’s that I regret asking her out _like that._ Y’know? She deserves better. Better than a drunk, washed up, child genius who’s never gonna get to space. I just…”

“I think I get it. Look, man, you’ve been so enamoured with the idea of dating her since Christmas, and now it’s finally happening, it’s probably not living up to your expectations.”

“I mean… _she’s_ living up to my expectations, yeah, but I’m not. The Kaito in my mind is a lot smoother, a lot…y’know…more masculine. Better looking. Better at understanding her. Better at communicating. Better at…being a boyfriend. And I’m just not. And I think she deserves the guy I want to be, but I’m not that guy.”

“It’s the flowers, isn’t it?”

“What do you mean?”

“I could tell. First Kokichi brings those flowers to her cubicle, then you two go out for a smoke together. I knew something was up by the look on your face.”

“Wait, _Kokichi_ gave her those flowers? That little fucking –”

“Careful, man, that’s my boyfriend you’re talking about.”

“R-Right. Yeah.”

“And all these problems you’re talking about…this is on you, man. I know you’d love to convince yourself that whatever’s going on is due to something Kokichi said, but you gotta face it. If you want this relationship to work, you have to admit that you’re not the perfect hero – or boyfriend – that you wanna be.”

“But how the hell can I make it work if I’m not perfect?”

“Once you realise that the Kaito in your mind – the guy you wanna be – he doesn’t exist, he’s not real, then you can really get into making her happy by being _you._ But unless you accept that, you’re always gonna feel like you’re letting her down.”

Maki is so caught up in their conversation that she almost forgets she’s eavesdropping, and when she hears Kaito shift his weight on Shuichi’s desk, she almost bolts for it, only remembering at the last minute to act casual and continue her walk to the kitchen. Her thoughts swim around in her head – she can’t possibly pretend like she _didn’t_ hear that, and she doesn’t know what to think. Rationally, she knows that she can’t not tell Kaito – that would make her feel guiltier than she already does for eavesdropping, but the thought of confronting him about obviously personal issues of his scares her, because that’s only one step away from true intimacy.

And she’s only used to the intimacy of being alone.

* * *

 

But sometimes, she has to take prompt from how Kaito lives his life – or at least, how she thinks he does – and bite the bullet. So, she texts him.

 **< To Kaito Momota: 16:32> **Come to mine after work? We need to talk.

 **< From Kaito Momota: 16:32> **anything bad?? you okay??

 **< To Kaito Momota: 16:33> **No. Nothing bad. I just. Okay I’m typing this out because it’s easier to say like not in person but I heard your conversation with Shuichi and I’m sorry I just couldn’t stop listening

 **< To Kaito Momota: 16:34> **??

 **< To Kaito Momota: 16:34> **I’m sorry. Really, I didn’t mean to listen in.

 **< To Kaito Momota: 16:34> **Please don’t be mad. I swear I’ll make it up to you.

She hates the fact that her shaking hands typed out multiple messages, in the paralysing fear of being punished. Although logically, she tells herself that Kaito would never hit her, there’s still a fear in her mind, like a shadow-monster with an arched back and broken bones, holding out the back of its hand – poised at her. And she can’t imagine this monster as Kaito, even if she tries, but the voice in her head tells her that it’s nothing that hasn’t happened before.

People can seem sweet. People can buy you drinks and let you into bars underage. But their fists will still be heavy on your cheeks. Tears will burn you.

 **< From Kaito Momota: 16: 36> **not mad at all :D if it was a super private conversation i wouldn’t have had it in work. besides, you’re my girlfriend (still love saying that!!) now so i don’t keep shit from you. we should still talk though!! what do you say to sneaking off work now?

 **< To Kaito Momota: 16:36> **Yeah, let’s get out of here. My place tonight? Takeout food and honesty?

 **< From Kaito Momota: 16:37> **takeout food and honesty sounds like a plan. meet me by my cubicle??

 **< To Kaito Momota: 16:37> **What, you can’t walk on your own?

 **< From Kaito Momota: 16:38> **shhhhhhhhhh

When she sees him, he’s smiling, but she notices that it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. With her fear of being punished for every little thing, and his worry of teetering on the impossible axis of perfection, they make quite the unstable pair; but when he slips his hand into hers once they’re outside, things just seem right.

“I carpooled with Shuichi today,” he says, “guess I must’a hoped me and you were going back together.”

“Let’s go,” she says, getting into her car and waiting until he’s buckled his own seatbelt before she sets off. The streets fly by, and Maki feels somewhat safe behind the wheel; not that she’s ever worried when she’s driving, but she gets a sense of control, now. If she wanted to, she could crash the car and kill them both, but for once, her reasoning to not do that isn’t “if you survive, you’ll have no car,” and instead, it’s “you don’t want to hurt Kaito,” and she likes that.

* * *

 

They go straight up to her apartment, and Kaito makes a beeline for the balcony, pulling her along. She hands him a cigarette, leaving the pack on the small table – a gesture of sharing – and they both light up.

“Let’s order some food,” she says, and pulls up a good takeout website on her phone, passing it to him and letting him make his choice. Once that’s all sorted, there’s nothing else for her to distract herself with, and she comes straight out with it.

“Do you regret asking me to date you?”

“What? No! No…I just…look, Maki Roll, I’m so glad I’m with you. Like, really really fucking glad. But I just don’t…feel good enough. Takeout and honesty, right?”

“Right. But Kaito…that’s how I feel. Surely one of us is wrong, and I’m betting it’s not me.”

“Maki Roll, you’re amazing! You’re smart and funny and beautiful and witty and –”

“Oh no, this isn’t about me. Talk to me, Kaito. Why do you feel like you’re not living up to who you want to be?”

“You sure you’re not just gonna laugh?”

“Do I look like the type of person who’d laugh at you for being honest?”

“Right. Yeah…you’re right. Well…you heard about me saying I don’t live up to the guy in my mind, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Well…the Kaito in my head is an astronaut, he’s the child genius that I used to be. His parents are still alive and he’s, like, _super_ hot, and that’s the guy I think you deserve. Like, if you want someone to rely on, he’d be this amazingly strong rock who could bear everyone’s problems. And I want that to be me, I really, really do. And I try. Of course I try. I try for Shuichi, and for you, but I just…look, don’t judge me, but I’m not perfect.”

“That’s not news to me. I don’t wanna date a perfect person, Kaito. I wanna date you.”

“Why?”

“Because if I wanted to date someone who was flawless, I’d never be happy. But you…your teeth are a little crooked and you smoke too much and you laugh loudly and you make stupid puns and you turn up late to work and you don’t vacuum your room, and I _love_ that. They’re the things I love about you.”

“Really? How can anyone –”

“Don’t you dare even ask. Because there’s one thing in this whole world I know to be true, and that’s my own feelings, and Kaito…I do love all those things about you. Because they’re things that _are_ you. You’re not the guy in your head, you’re the guy with the weird hair from work who got too drunk at the Christmas party and had to get a ride home from me. That’s the guy I wanna date.”

“I just don’t see how.”

“’Course you don’t. ‘Cause you’re so self-critical. But I don’t see you in that kinda light. I see you for who you are.”

“And you still like that?” Kaito laughs bitterly.

“Of _course_ I do.”

“Well, on the subject of honesty, can I ask you why you’re so terrified of me being mad at you? Like, you flinch whenever you do something you think is wrong, and you sound like you think me being mad is the end of the world.”

“Well, isn’t it?”

“No, of course not. Like, I’ve never been mad at you, but I’ve been mad at stuff at some point in my life.”

“And you…? What do you do?”

“When I’m mad? Usually watch crappy films and stargaze until I feel better.”

“You don’t…hit things?”

“Nah. Not really my style. Why? Maki Roll…did…?”

“Not much. Not…often. But yeah, it’s happened, and that’s why I don’t get close to people. If you don’t get close to them, you can’t disappoint them; and if you can’t disappoint them, you can’t…get hurt.”

“I promise you, no matter what you do, I’ll never, _ever_ lay a hand on you. Not once.”

“How can you say that? How can you just promise to hold your temper?”

“Because I know that, above everything, I will _always_ love you more than I ever feel any anger. And even if I did, it’s just not right to hit a woman. Much less one you’d die for.”

“Woah, easy there, it’s been a few days. Let’s not _Romeo and Juliet_ all over this just yet, yeah?”

“Sorry. I say that all the time. Weird, huh?”

“I’ve seen weirder.”

Maki’s phone buzzes, and she sees that the takeout food will be arriving in five minutes.

“Who’s gonna go down and get it? Wait,” Kaito says, “let’s have an arm wrestling competition. Loser goes down and gets the food.”

“You’re on,” Maki replies.

They link hands, and Maki looks him dead in the eyes as she puts all of her strength into winning. They’re a fairly equal match, but she’s willing to play dirty, and she leans across their arms and kisses him full on the mouth. He’s taken aback for long enough that she can slam his hand into the table, and grin at him.

“Go get the food for your favourite _winner._ And don’t look so star-struck. There’s more where that came from.”

Kaito smiles, kisses her quickly, and goes to exit the door. Momentarily, she pulls him back, passing him her keys so he can let himself back in. To hand them over to him – the keys to her security, her safe space – it feels _right._

Like there should be another set of keys cut, for the second person who will always be welcome here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me, at the beginning of the easter holidays: i'm back on my update schedule!!  
> me, posting this on my final night at my parents' house before i go back to my dorm: hello,
> 
> ANYWAY HERE IT IS, THOUGH!! And I really, really hope you enjoyed it :D
> 
> Please comment if you're liking this!!
> 
> I'm dedicating this fic to my friend Sy. Every single word, every line, every weirdly drawn out metaphor, every chapter, to her. Because she truly deserves it. She hypes me up to write this fic so much, and it's really refreshing to see her excitement. She's drawn scenes from this, which I'm so so grateful for. She's just the Ultimate Angel, and I love her in every universe and every time.
> 
> So thank you, Sy. This one (as always) is for you.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maki starts to find beauty in the little things, like blanket forts, and love, and the way Kaito's face looks in the moonlight.

She waits, feeling a chill over her clothes in the visible space of her apartment. He’s only been gone for a few minutes, and she _should_ be happy – things are _sorted_ now, and they can only get more stable from here. Still, she keeps having visions of how Himiko acted a few days after the crash, and all of Maki’s wildest imaginations spread a thick mist over the truth, leaving her only with the damp, sickening lie of what could have happened.

Kaito could have been hit by a car. He could have been mugged, or kidnapped; she knows that she’s read too many crime novels when she imagines him holed up in some dirty bathroom, held captive, inches away from her grasping reach. There’s a feeling that gets caught in her throat, like every moment she doesn’t see him, the worst could happen, and every moment that she does, she could have to witness his death.

She knows – _knows –_ that this is what a traumatised brain does. It creates wisps of smoke that show everything she perceives as ‘good’, and her hands, dirtied and bloody, just can’t catch them in time for them to be meaningful. For a while, she was satisfied to just accept that mediocrity, whilst a lot worse than happiness, is a lot better than sadness, but now she has something worth losing.

Finally, after years, she’s caught one of the wisps of smoke in her mind. And it seems to be burning down to the ash of a finite cigarette.

In the past, feelings like this would have lingered for months, but she feels no urge to burn off her skin and recreate herself as _untouched;_ instead, she waits…waiting…waiting…and he comes. Bursting through the door, all smiles, telling her how they got extra onion rings with their order and how he’s so excited to tuck in. And things are fine.

For now, which is all that matters, things are fine.

“Yo, Maki Roll,” Kaito says, putting the takeout food on her counter, “I have the _best_ idea.”

“Why do I always feel like that phrase heralds disaster?”

“Listen…have you ever made a blanket fort?”

“A…what?”

“Y’know, drape blankets over some chairs and fill the inside with cushions and shit?”

“No. I definitely _haven’t_ done that.”

 _“I never had my own blankets to begin with,”_ she thinks, _“there were always colder children than me.”_

“Hold on,” he runs out of the room and comes back with the duvet from her bed. Prompted by this, she gets her spare blankets from behind the sofa and throws them to him as he pulls out two chairs. Although she expects him to catch them, he’s completely floored by the flying fabric coming towards him, and he stumbles backwards onto the floor. When he emerges, she’s scared that he’ll be angry, but his smiling face reminds her of what he told her, and she relaxes. He walks over to her, almost tripping again over the mound of blankets that he’s carrying, and he dumps them all onto the floor.

“Right,” he says, “let’s get this thing started!”

He positions the two chairs at a distance from each other, draping blankets in a haphazard, but still… _homely_ looking fashion over them until he’s created a roof. Using the cushions from the sofa, he makes the floor comfortable, pausing to admire his creation before running back into her bedroom and coming back with all the pillows in there.

And it’s beautiful. Childish, and unnecessary, but absolutely beautiful; not despite these things, but _because_ of them.

Grabbing the takeout food and two beers from the fridge, Maki joins Kaito on the floor of the blanket fort. Suddenly, having had an idea, she jumps back up, goes to her room, and on her way back, turns the lights off. She can feel Kaito’s confusion in the air until she clicks the plug on and the Home Planet that he gifted her lights up.

“Hey, Maki Roll, awesome!”

“It’s only right to look at the stars with my favourite astronaut,” she says.

 _“Wannabe_ astronaut,” he corrects her, his voice quieter than usual.

“It’s all the same to me, star-man.”

“I love you.”

“I…I love you too.”

He puts his arm around her and pulls her close, picking up a piece of pizza and holding it to her mouth; slowly, tentatively, she takes a bite, and he smiles at her like she’s the most beautiful thing in the world.

“Look,” he says, pointing at the blanket-roof, looking at the stars, “I swear, when I get to space, I’m gonna take you with me.”

In response, she rests her head on his shoulder. Something within her is just so… _touch-starved,_ and when he rests his free hand on her head and starts playing with her hair, she feels completely, vividly, at home.

They eat takeout food together and Maki finds herself laughing for the first time in a long time. She still rests on him, and he supports her, but she finds that he smiles more when she’s close to him, and that fits her well. Like a face or emotion that she’s been too afraid to wear for years finally emerging, blossoming in the dark of the night, with cheap beer and slowly-growing-cold takeout food, artificial stars watching her love from a sky within her reach, and she is satisfied. Damn her worried thoughts, because this is _real,_ and that’s what matters.

“I wanna visit Himiko in the morning,” she says, “are you okay with that?”

“Of course.”

“I mean…you could just wait in the car. I just wanna bring some breakfast or something. Y’know…make sure she’s okay.”

“That’s good,” he says, holding her hand, “you’re a good friend.”

“Thank you. I think I worry about that sometimes.”

“You can’t stop people from being depressed, remember that. There’s nothing you could have done.”

“But –”

“No, Maki Roll. There’s _nothing_ you could have done. Don’t put the burden of other people’s health onto you.”

“I guess,” she says.

Under the milky starlight, she rests her head once again onto his shoulder, and closes her eyes. It’s not like she particularly wants to go to sleep here, but today has been emotionally draining, and it often takes her a while to process exactly what she’s thinking; before she can truly realise it, she’s in a semi-sleep state. Aware of her surroundings, but unable to open her eyes. Still, even in her unconscious consciousness, she feels Kaito’s arms toughen around her as he picks her up and she falls further into him.

His strong arms hold her up and she feels each of his steps as if they were her own. Just like when she called him, drunk and lonely, it’s comforting to feel his warmth, his love, radiating into her as he carries her to the bedroom.

“I…wanna…pyjamas,” she says, tired.

“C’mon,” he says softly, “let me help you get out of your clothes.”

She nods, and slowly, almost cautiously, he undresses her. With her eyes half open, she sees him pick up a shirt from the bedroom floor – it’s one of her larger ones that she wears to bed, and he helps her put it over her head. When he undresses, she finds that he looks even more beautiful with his shirt off, the moonlight seeping through her curtains to illuminate him, as if he belongs in the light of something ethereal. His body under the duvet feels right, and she falls into a beautiful, deep sleep, vaguely noticing how he holds her close.

* * *

 

Morning comes, and she wakes just before dawn. Whilst she contemplates letting Kaito sleep more, and making him breakfast in bed, she rolls over to see him slowly waking up; he yawns, opening his eyes and smiling when he sees her.

“Mornin’ darlin’,” he says. His voice is tired and soft, and she has to resist the urge to fall into his arms and skip work.

“Morning.”

“You wanna go visit Himiko this mornin’?”

“Mm,” she says, “yeah. I’m gonna go shower.”

“Okay.”

As she gets out of bed, and the cold embraces her, she feels a quick chill all the way into her bathroom. It’s only once the shower is on, and the hot water engulfs her, that she feels normal again. Strangely, though, she doesn’t want to stay in there forever, peeling her skin off and hating every inch of her broken body. Instead, she knows that there’s a stronger warmth waiting outside for her.

It’s only when she wraps a towel around herself that she realises how selfish she’s been. She should have remembered that Kaito wears glasses, and that he most likely didn’t take his contact lenses out last night – _fuck,_ she doesn’t know how it feels but she imagines that it must hurt.

“Kaito,” she says, emerging from the bathroom, “did you sleep with your contacts in?”

He opens his eyes again, still in the bed.

“Oh, yeah,” he says, “guess I did.”

“Fuck. Do your eyes hurt?”

“Nah. I’ve done it so many times,” he sits up, propping a pillow against his back, “I’ll just take ‘em out and put them in the lens solution today and they’ll be fine by tomorrow.”

“Do you have your glasses now, though?”

“Yeah, they’re in my bag.”

“And clothes?”

“I’ll just wear my clothes from yesterday.”

“You need to leave some stuff at mine for times like this.”

“I like that.”

“We’ll go to yours tonight then,” she says, “so I’ll put some clothes in my bag.”

“You’re so much more prepared than I am.”

As Kaito gets into the shower, Maki starts to do her makeup in front of her mirror. She hears the water running, and imagines him, beautiful. Already, he means so much to her. With her trust issues, and her past, it’s surprising that she’s opened up in just a few months, but it feels _right_ to be by his side, sharing a bed and doing normal things together.

Normal things. Like she’s a normal person.

She looks in the mirror and tries to convince herself.

But when he comes out of the bathroom, all of her worries melt away. He’s got a towel around his waist and he’s rubbing his hair dry, and out of impulse she stands up and walks over to him, wrapping her arms around his bare chest and standing on her tiptoes as he leans down to kiss her. This is perfect.

“So,” he says, “ten minutes before we’re ready?”

“Seriously? It only takes you ten minutes to get ready after a shower?”

“What can I say, I’m beautiful.”

“You got me there.”

And he’s right – in only ten minutes, they’re both ready to head out of the door. It’s earlier than she’d normally set off for work, but she grabs some leftovers from the other day from her freezer and tucks them into her bag – it’s not much, but she thinks that Himiko will still appreciate anything that shows care right now.

She drives, and Kaito flicks through the radio stations in the passenger seat. When the light starts flashing on her dashboard, she pulls into a petrol station to fill her car up.

“Wait here,” she says, “I’ll only be a moment.”

“I’ll pay,” Kaito replies, “as thanks for taking me to work.”

Before she can protest, he walks inside the station whilst she’s filling up her car. Nervous to put in too much petrol and cause him to spend much money on her, she stops when it’s probably halfway full and gets back inside; when he emerges from the shop, he’s holding a bunch of flowers.

“Don’t worry,” he says, “not for you this time. For Himiko.”

“You’re so…nice.”

“It’s what she deserves.”

They drive the rest of the way to Himiko’s, and when Maki parks up outside, Kaito doesn’t unbuckle his seatbelt.

“C’mon,” she says.

“I thought you wanted me to stay in the car?”

“Nah. She’ll wanna see you. You radiate positivity.”

“Aww, Maki Roll.”

They both step out of the car and Maki knocks on the door. Gonta answers, and his face lights up to see her.

“Maki! Kaito! Gonta is so pleased to see you!”

“Hi, Gonta,” she says, “is Himiko awake?”

“Yes! Her and Angie are in the kitchen!”

“Lovely,” Kaito says, “may we come in?”

“Of course!”

Maki steps inside, unconsciously putting her hand close to Kaito’s; he gets the message and holds it as she leads him into the kitchen, where she finds Himiko, sitting across from Angie, an untouched plate of toast in front of her.

“Hey, Himiko,” she says, “Angie, how are you?”

“We’re lovely,” Angie says, smiling, “Himiko joined me in morning prayers today and now we’re having breakfast!”

“That sounds lovely, Angie,” Kaito says, holding out the flowers, “we got these for you.”

“Oh, thank you! Atua thinks these are the most beautiful flowers!”

Maki knows that that’s Angie’s way of saying that she appreciates the effort, and she smiles, especially when Kaito hands the flowers to Himiko.

“You eating that toast?” Maki asks. Himiko looks down.

“Yo, Himiko,” Kaito says, taking the seat next to her, “you not hungry?”

Himiko looks up.

“I…am,” she says, “I just…it’s hard to eat. I feel a little bad.”

“I get that,” he tells her, “I know. But hey, if you eat your breakfast, you’ll feel better! And if you do, you’ll probably have enough energy to go on a walk with Angie or somethin’ like that today! I heard it’s gonna be sunny.”

“Yes,” she says, “I predicted it was going to be sunny. Like magic.”

“You’re so cool, Himiko! Tell you what, you wanna do a magic show for me and Maki Roll one day?”

“Hmm, I think…that sounds cool.”

“Awesome! But you’ve gotta eat breakfast, right? It’ll get your energy up. And you need energy to do magic, don’t you?”

Himiko nods.

He leans into her, but Maki can still hear his voice.

“Y’know, if you eat that toast, I bet’cha Maki Roll will be so happy. Like, she’ll smile, and that’s beautiful. Don’t you think?”

Himiko nods, tentatively picking up the slice of toast and raising it to her mouth. As she takes a bite, Kaito gives her a high five, standing up after he does this.

“Me and Maki Roll have gotta get to work now,” he says, “but I’m gonna hold you to that magic show promise, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Himiko says, “I’d like that.”

“Awesome,” Kaito replies, and holds Maki’s hand as they walk out of the door. Back in her car, she turns to him whilst he’s buckling his seatbelt and smiles.

“You know how to handle stuff,” she says, “so much better than me.”

“I just believe in people. You do all the right things for like, practical stuff. I saw you give that food to Gonta for Himiko. Sure, I talk to her about her interests and stuff, but yours is the help that keeps her alive.”

“I don’t know, Kaito,” she says, “I just feel like you’re doing a better job of comforting my best friend than I am.”

“No way! You don’t believe in yourself enough.”

“Sure,” she says, although there’s no truth of emotion in her voice.

* * *

 

They pull up at work, and she turns off the car in silence. In the seclusion of the car park, Kaito leans over and kisses her, holding her cheek as he closes his eyes; it’s a beautiful way to start the day. It’s almost a heartbreak when she has to open the door and part with him for a second. She’s still too scared to walk into the building holding his hand as proudly as she wishes she could, but it’s enough for her to exchange a meaningful glance with him before she walks to her cubicle to drop off her bag.

She hopes to see him in the kitchen, but it seems like he doesn’t want coffee at the same time that she does, and she finds herself leaning against the counter, fully aware of the silence; only the sound of her own breathing, and the kettle slowly but surely boiling. Watching her coffee dissolve into liquid, she feels forceful – it’s just caffeine, but it makes her strong, and when she drinks it at her desk, she feels comfortable.

There always comes a time when comfort wears off, though. It’s inevitable, and it seeps into the pores of her life regardless of whether or not she’s infatuated with Kaito – there’ll always be a part of her that yearns for more; more satisfaction, or the ability to be proud of herself. If only she could look in the mirror and see herself the way she imagines Kaito sees her when he smiles brightly at her.

But, for once, she won’t let her thoughts overcome her.

A cigarette will sort her out.

Walking to the smoking shelter, she contemplates asking Kaito to come with her, but she tells herself that doing so would be _clingy,_ and she doesn’t want to put him off before their relationship has barely begun. No, she’s okay with smoking on her own...sometimes.

As she rounds the corner to the shelter, she sees that it’s not empty; the more she walks, the more her eyes focus, and she sees that Kokichi sits there – strangely, for once, on his own.

When she sits down, she notices something unusual. It takes her a while to place the smell of fresh smoke in the air, and looking up, she sees him smoking a real cigarette, foregoing his e-cigarette for the first time since she’s known him.

“I thought you gave real cigs up?” Maki asks.

“That was a lie! I always smoke real cigarettes,” Kokichi says, but his voice betrays him.

“Stop lying. I’m being genuine for once. You alright?”

“I’m fine. I guess your beloved Kaito’s sentimentality is rubbing off on you!”

“Fine. Whatever. I’m just trying to be nice.”

“Eww, Maki being nice! Sounds fake.”

“Fuck off.”

“Okay.”

“What?”

“Okay, I’ll fuck off,” Kokichi stands up.

“Look, I’m joking. Or…lying, if you wanna put it that way. I know we haven’t exactly gotten on but…what’s up?”

“Nothing, Maki! You’re reading into me too much. Don’t you know that nobody can tell what’s going on behind the elusive liar, Kokichi Ouma?”

“I know something’s up. Lie about it all you want, but something’s got you down. I’m only offering someone to listen and be impartial.”

“O-Oh,” Kokichi says, “well…whatever I’m gonna say could totally be a lie!”

“Or it could not. I’ll never know. So what _exactly_ have you got to lose by talking to me?”

“Right. Well…I could be lying…but…”

“C’mon, Kokichi. I’m not being a bitch, and you’re not lying. We’ve got five minutes to be who we really are, alright?”

“Fine. It’s Shuichi. He’s…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this is probably a little shorter than most of the chapters, but here it is! I wonder what's happened to Shuichi, hmm....


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maki tries to sort out whatever has happened with Shuichi on her own.

“He’s _what?”_ Maki says, watching as Kokichi plays with the end of his cigarette; it has long since burned down to the filter, and he merely rolls the still-lit spark between his fingers, occasionally tensing up when he seems to catch his hands on the fire. When the burning gets too much, and Maki watches his cigarette fall to the ground, missing the ashtray, Kokichi stands up.

“It doesn’t matter.”

_“What?”_

“I was lying, anyway. Shuichi’s _fiiiine.”_

“Then why do you look like you’re going to cry?”

“God, Maki, you’re so _easy_ to fool! I’m fine, Shuichi’s fine, everything’s…fine!”

“Stop fucking lying for once in your goddamn life.”

“Whatever, I’m going,” Kokichi stands up, turns on his heel, and leaves.

Frantic and worried, Maki pulls her phone out of her pocket. She doesn’t want to text Kaito – she knows how close he is to Shuichi, and this would only worry him. But there’s something in her stomach, making her feel apprehensive about contacting Shuichi directly.

Still, what else can be done?

She hears the distant ring as she calls his number, taking a long drag from her cigarette, waiting eternally for him to pick up. But he doesn’t. Call after call, and her phone becomes acquainted with the dial tone a little too well.

Obviously, there’s a thought in the back of her mind that maybe, just _maybe,_ Kokichi is intentionally messing with her. But still, she cares for Shuichi more than she cares about her pride, so it’s better to be safe than sorry. Contemplating calling Kaito and telling him about what’s going on, she takes a final puff on her cigarette and decides against it; she remembers his hero complex, and how he used to be with Shuichi – it’s better to just keep him in the peace of not knowing.

* * *

 

As she walks back into work, she takes care to avoid Kaito’s cubicle on her way to the office of her Regional Manager, Tsumugi Shirogane. She’s a nice woman, and very easy to win over win the right smile and choice of words; of course, she’s stern, but Maki knows that she’s been a good employee for her whole time here, and Tsumugi will be kind because of that.

Inside the office, she gets straight to the point.

“Tsumugi, I need to take the day off.”

“Why?”

“I…I’m sick. Like, I just almost vomited in the smoking area. I’m sure it’s just a twenty-four hour bug, but it’s better to leave now than get the whole office sick.”

Tsumugi covers her mouth in a gesture that Maki assumes was meant to be subtle.

“Ah, well, in that case,” she says, looking at Maki with concern and confusion, “you better take the day off. But this isn’t like you, Maki. I thought I knew your character well.”

“Like I said, I’ll be better soon.”

“I hope you will,” Tsumugi says, “but yes, you may go.”

“Thank you.”

Maki tries to leave subtly. She’s almost sure that nobody is aware of her absence, and when she unlocks her car, she’s certain that she’s alone. But she’s not.

“Maki Roll,” Kaito says, behind her, “where you going?”

“Oh, I’m just…going to…get something to eat.”

“It’s not our lunch break, though.”

“I’m hungry now.”

“Where are you _really_ going?”

“Honestly, Kaito!”

“C’mon, Maki Roll. You can tell me.”

“No, seriously, it’s fine.”

“Please?” Kaito stares at her with an expression of sadness and betrayal, and she wonders whether this was Kokichi’s plan all along. Is it worth it, to ruin Kaito’s trust in her?

“Alright, fine,” she says, “but you can’t freak out.”

“I can’t promise that, but I can try.”

“Well…I was in the smoking area, and I saw Kokichi. Like, smoking a real cigarette. And he started being honest…well, I thought he was being honest. And he said…something’s up with Shuichi. So I tried calling him but…he’s not picking up, and I’m worried. I was going to try and figure out what’s up with him before you found out.”

“Why didn’t you want me to know?” Kaito says, looking sad.

“It’s not anything against you, I promise. I just…I didn’t want you to feel like it…he…was your responsibility. I know you like to play the hero, but I didn’t…I don’t…know if he’s okay. And you’d put that on yourself. I’d never forgive myself.”

“Look, Maki Roll, you need to stop taking responsibility for other people’s stuff. Whatever’s happened…it’s nothing to do with you. So you don’t need to bear the burden of it to save my happiness or something. If you’re doing this, we’re doing this together.”

“Who said _we’re_ doing it?”

“I did. And I’m with you, Maki Roll. Always.”

“Fine, get in the car. But you’re explaining why you’re gone to Tsumugi, not me.”

“Gotcha.”

Kaito gets in the passenger side of her car, and she takes a quick glance at his face; worried, like she’d expected. Fuck. She already feels guilty for telling him what’s going on, but it’s not like she could have hidden it, given the circumstances.

“So…where are we going?” Kaito asks.

“Uh…I thought we could…stop by Shuichi’s apartment first? I…used to know the address but…uh.”

“It’s alright, I got it,” Kaito says, programming it into her navigation system, “see, you need me here! We’re a good team.”

She’s not convinced that he’s so optimistic. Imagining Shuichi, lying in a bathtub of blood, or vomiting pills, or broken somewhere that nobody can reach – it hurts her heart. And when she sees Kaito’s face, she knows that the same gruesome images are running through his head, too.

* * *

 

The lights are clearly off in Shuichi’s second floor apartment when they pull up outside the building. It’s considerably less well maintained than either of their apartment buildings, and the door swings open without them even being granted entry. As Kaito leads Maki to the door of Shuichi’s flat, she starts to knock.

No response.

Knock, knock, knock.

No response.

“I got this,” Kaito says, pulling out a key from a compartment in his wallet, “I’ve got his spare key. Y’know, emergency contact and all?”

Maki’s heart twinges a little when she realises that she still doesn’t have an emergency contact; it’s not quite jealousy, but it’s similar…she hates the idea of Kaito cradling anybody’s broken body except for hers. And now, she thinks about dying, and how beautiful it would be to see his eyes as the last thing that this universe enamours her with.

Her thoughts could overtake her. They could swirl through her mind, wrapping her up like a sacrificial offering, destroying her…but they don’t.

They don’t…because she sees Shuichi when the door opens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter is so short! It's like 1000 words, but I promise all will be revealed with Shuichi soon. So, here's Chapter Fourteen, and I really hope you enjoy it. Please, leave a comment!


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maki sees what's up with Shuichi.

Shuichi, on the floor.

Kaito gasps, and Maki sees his face turn from shock to dulled acceptance; from his eyes alone, she can tell that this has happened before. When she walks forwards, he follows her, his steps ghostly, the embodiment of humid, thick déjà vu.

He’s got an almost empty bottle in his hand and he’s barely coherent when he sees them.

“Kaitoooo,” he slurs, “Maki, _hiiiiiii.”_

“Shuichi, c’mon,” Kaito says, walking over to him and hoisting him upwards so that he’s not lying on the floor any more. The bottle falls from his hand and spills the small remainder of its contents onto the floor, but neither of them notice, or care; Kaito just sits Shuichi upright on the sofa and kneels down to hold his hands.

“Kaito,” Shuichi mumbles, “mm…you can’t hold my h-hands…you love Maki, remember?”

“Hey, bro, I’m still here for you even though I’ve got a girlfriend, yeah? You’re still important to me. What’s happened?”

“’M just drunk.”

“C’mon, I know you. You’re only like this when…well, just…something’s happened, right? It’s alright to tell me.”

“Whatever,” Shuichi says, picking up the empty bottle of alcohol, “I wanna get drunk!”

“You already _are_ drunk,” Kaito tells him, pulling him upwards so that he’s standing, leaning on Kaito’s shoulder. Awkwardly, Maki follows the pair as they start to walk towards Shuichi’s bedroom.

When Shuichi falls onto his own bed, Kaito sits next to him as though he’s done this a thousand times before. Following suit, Maki sits on the edge, perched so lightly that she’s bearing most of her weight on her legs anyway.

“My uncle,” Shuichi says, looking at Kaito’s expectant face, “he…”

He bursts into tears. With his back against the headrest, he leans forward, half-falling directly into Maki’s arms. She remembers how the children in the orphanage would come to her, crying over their lost parents, and all the muscle-memory of comfort floods through her body as she stars to rub his back.

“It’s alright,” she says, “take your time.”

Kaito stares at her in awe and confusion.

“Whatever it is,” she continues, “it’s alright to tell us. Okay? Whatever you say doesn’t leave this room.”

Shuichi continues sobbing into the fabric of her shirt, and she readjusts her arms so that she’s giving him a slightly clumsy hug.

“He…” Shuichi says, “he…I got a call…he had a heart attack…and he _died…_ just like that. Surrounded by his work, alone, w-without me.”

“I’m sorry,” Maki tells him, “I really, really am.”

“He’s…”

“I know. I imagine it’s horrific just to lose someone like that. But would he want you to be drinking away the pain?”

“He doesn’t want _a-anything._ He’s dead.”

“I…I know,” she says, “but you have to keep living on for him, right?”

“I…I don’t know. I mean…we weren’t close in a t-traditional sense. He valued m-my work…not me. But god, now…I have nobody.”

“You’ve got me,” Kaito says, holding his hand, “and Maki Roll. And Kokichi.”

“I’m still…alone.”

“I think,” Maki tells him, softly, “that you need to not be alone right now. We can call Kokichi if you need.”

“I…I told him,” Shuichi says, “but I don’t know if he’s going to take me seriously. I mean…he d-doesn’t take many things seriously.”

“It’s up to you. We’ll do whatever you need.”

“C-Call him…”

Kaito finds Shuichi’s phone on the bedside table and guides him into unlocking it. Shuichi can’t muster up the courage to call Kokichi whilst he’s still crying, so he just sends him a text and then throws his phone onto the bed.

“I want a drink,” he says.

“I don’t think that’s –”

“Alright,” Maki says, interrupting Kaito. Before he can protest, she holds his hand and pulls him out of the room.

“If we tell him no,” she tells Kaito, “he’ll only get up and get a drink himself.”

“But, Maki Roll, I know what he’s like when he’s depressed. Alcohol isn’t good for him.”

“I get it.”

She walks to the kitchen and pulls out a glass and a straw; finding a bottle of vodka in the cupboard and some lemonade in the fridge, she puts everything on the counter whilst Kaito watches, his face disapproving.

Slowly, carefully, she pours a tiny drop of vodka down the straw, making sure to coat the mouth of it with enough vodka that Shuichi will be able to taste it. With that done, she fills the glass only with lemonade, and puts the straw in it.

“See,” she says, “it tastes alcoholic but it’s only lemonade.”

“Oh…that’s genius.”

“Thanks.”

As she brings the glass back to Shuichi’s room, she lets Kaito hand it to him whilst she stands in the doorway. Her own phone beeps with a text.

 **< From Kokichi: 14:12> **Should I go to Shuichi’s?

Instead of replying, she clicks the ‘call’ button and waits for him to answer. Walking away from Shuichi’s room and into the hallway, she holds the phone close to her ear.

“Hi,” he says, picking up the phone.

“Yes. Come over to his, but don’t pull any of your usual shit. He needs someone to genuinely be with him right now.”

“I guess you heard about his uncle.”

“Yeah. Wish you’d have just fucking told me in the first place, though.”

“Well…I’m a liar! Aren’t I?”

“I don’t know, are you?”

“I…I’m on my way.”

* * *

 

Leaving Kaito with Shuichi, Maki makes her way out of the apartment and down the stairs, waiting outside for twenty minutes before she sees Kokichi. He runs up to her and gets right in her face; he’s seemingly looking for any expression to betray what’s going on inside the building.

“You can be sad, y’know,” she says.

“What?”

“You can be sad. Like…your boyfriend is having a hard time and I guess you’ve never been intimate with someone like that before. It’s alright to not know what the fuck is going on.”

“Why would I open up to you?”

“Because you’re still talking. So, there’s obviously something you want to say,” Maki says, holding out her pack of cigarettes to offer him one. He takes one, and she smiles sadly.

“I’m an enabler,” she laughs meaninglessly.

“I don’t care,” he replies, “let’s take a walk before we go in.”

It’s only a little way down the street before they stop; Kokichi coughs on the cigarette and Maki smiles bitterly. He’s not used to this – not any of this, she suspects.

“So,” she says, “talk to me.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m all you’ve got before you go in there and confront reality.”

“O-Oh. Alright. I just…it’s hard having a boyfriend. It’s like there’s someone dependent on me.”

“And you’ve not had that before?”

“Not really.”

“I get it. Look…I’m gonna level with you here. No lies, okay? Shuichi’s in a really fucking bad state. It’s gonna scare the living hell out of you when you get up there. But from what I know of you…you’re good at compartmentalising your emotions. I’m not saying that’s healthy, but…cheer him up, alright?”

“How?”

“You know him best. He’s dating _you_ for a reason. Not me, not Kaito…you.”

“I don’t know,” Kokichi says, sadly, “I feel like Kaito would be better with him.”

“Hey,” Maki tries to smile, “Kaito’s mine. Hands off.”

“Sorry, _heterosexual.”_

“Bisexual and you know it. But at least you’re joking around again.”

“Really, though. What do I do?”

“Just…be yourself. Or, at least, be the guy he fell in love with. I won’t pretend to know which personality of yours is the real one, but…you’re what he needs right now.”

“R-Right.”

They walk back together, reaching Shuichi’s building in no time at all. She gives Kokichi a faint, strained smile as they buzz his apartment. Kaito’s voice comes over the speaker.

“Maki Roll?”

“Yeah, I’m down here with Kokichi.”

“Okay. I’ll let you up. I’m gonna come down…I think Shuichi needs some time alone with his boyfriend.”

Seeing Kokichi’s face grow pale, Maki looks directly at him and nods, trying to give him some confidence. Of course, she previously disliked him, but she’s seeing now that he’s just trying to cope with a world that’s against him – she’s doing the same, although she copes with alcohol, and he copes with lies.

* * *

 

There’s an almost-exchange of support for Shuichi when Kaito comes outside the building and Kokichi goes inside. But she’s alone with Kaito once more, and she’s scared for Shuichi, still.

“We’re not going back to work,” she says, “are we? Do you wanna get lunch somewhere?”

“Yeah,” Kaito replies, “somewhere calm.”

They find themselves in a little café not far from the apartment block that they were just in, and a mutual sigh echoes across their booth once they’ve sat down. Although saying that they were going to get lunch, they’ve both only ordered drinks.

“I’m sorry,” Kaito says.

“What?”

“I’m…sorry.”

“What for?”

“Just…I mean…I thought Shuichi’s problems were mine to bear, and I dragged you into it.”

“Kaito,” Maki says, reaching across the table and holding his hand, “you can’t bear everyone’s problems alone, alright? And Shuichi…he’s my friend, too. So it’s only fair for me to check up on him.”

“I guess. It’s just weird, y’know. Seeing you hug him, seeing Kokichi go to comfort him. I felt kinda…never mind.”

“No, go on.”

“Useless, alright? I felt useless. There you go, you can laugh at me now.”

Instead of laughing, she squeezes his hand and stands up from the table, moving seats so that she’s next to him rather than opposite. She puts her arm around him and pulls him close; leaning into him, she kisses his forehead, and reminds herself that it’s alright to give love to others.

“I’m not gonna laugh,” she says, “’cause I know you struggle with feeling…wanted, I guess? You can’t save everyone, but dammit, you try.”

“I’m not…”

“Don’t you dare. C’mon, you know Shuichi needs his boyfriend more than anything right now. That doesn’t mean you’re useless, it just means that you’re not responsible for everyone’s problems.”

“I…guess.”

The waitress brings over their drinks; Kaito’s hot chocolate with cream, and Maki’s black coffee.

“You still wanna feel useful, don’t you?”

He nods.

“Do you not feel useful right now, with me?”

“Maki Roll,” he says, “it’s not like, y’know, I don’t value you or anything. I just…I know you’re strong and capable, and I need people to rely on me in order to…fuck…so that I can _mean something.”_

“I get you. I’m not gonna give you a useless positivity speech. I just thought…well, we’re not going back to work, are we?”

“No.”

“So why don’t we go see Himiko? You know she loves seeing you, and you might be able to cheer her up?”

“That sounds like a good idea,” Kaito says, but his voice sounds distant. Maki suspects that there’s something holding him back from being _himself;_ it hurts her to think that she can’t fix him, but in thinking this, it hits her that they’re far more similar than she initially thought.

Once they’ve finished their drinks, Maki is the one to lead Kaito by the hand out of the café, feeling strong enough within herself to take on the burden of his sadness, too. Still, he’s smiling, and she can tell that it’s forced – she hates the thought that he’s not entirely comfortable around her yet, but logically she knows that love doesn’t just fix a person.

That one hits close to home.

But there’s a domestic happiness that she feels, walking through the supermarket with Kaito, picking up food for a picnic. There’s strawberries and cream, little selections of meat, sausage rolls, chocolate – her shopping basket feels like she’s part of something beautiful, and she’s terrified of denying it.

“Himiko is gonna _love_ this,” Kaito says, looking a little happier than before.

“Yeah, she loves stuff like this. It’ll be great.”

* * *

 

When they arrive at Himiko’s house, it’s a surprise for even Angie when the door opens.

“Oh, Maki!” Angie says.

“Hey.”

“I wasn’t expecting you. What a lovely surprise! Truly, this is Atua’s beautiful will!”

“Perhaps it is,” Kaito says, “and we were wondering if you and Himiko and Gonta wanted to come on a picnic with us?”

“A picnic? That sounds… _divine!_ I’ll go and wake Himiko. Come in, come in! Gonta should be in the living room!”

As Maki and Kaito wait in the hallway, Angie emerges with Himiko – she’s dressed, which Maki is thankful for, and it’s not long before Gonta joins them. Piling into the back of Maki’s car, the trio end up laughing at the way Angie gets slightly squashed in the middle; Maki smiles at Kaito in the passenger seat, and feels a vague warmth of happiness. Her…and her _boyfriend._ And their friends.

She has friends.

But still, something within her feels empty. She can’t shake the thought of Shuichi, alone with Kokichi in his room, struggling against the death of his uncle. There’s only one thing to do.

Putting the car back in neutral and turning the engine off, still on the driveway, she pulls out her phone.

 **< To Kokichi: 17:10> **Think you can get Shuichi out of his room?

 **< From Kokichi: 17:12> **He’s refusing to sleep so maybe, why?

 **< To Kokichi: 17:13> **We’re all going for a picnic at Observatory Park – you know where it is? You’re both welcome.

 **< From Kokichi: 17:14> **I’ll try.

She starts the engine, and hopes that she can bring everything broken together. Otherwise…it’s too much for her heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry that this one is shorter than usual, again! I'm not super proud of it, and I should have uploaded it last weekend, so I'm sorry for that. I hope you enjoy it anyway! Please leave a comment if you did :^)
> 
> Also, this chapter is dedicated to my amazing and wonderful friend Nebbie!


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maki tries to fix everything with a simple picnic and a few well-needed hugs.

Whilst Angie, Himiko, and Gonta pile out of the car onto the grass outside, Maki stays inside, the engine still running as Kaito stares out of the windshield with a blank expression. She reaches her hand over the gearstick and squeezes his thigh, managing a small smile that he weakly returns.

“C’mon,” she says, “I know Himiko is dying to see you.”

He doesn’t reply. Maki fears that she’ll push it too far, and mimics his silence as they exit. With the shopping bags of food in her hand, she steels herself and remains strong - it makes her somewhat happy to have him rely on her, if only because she feels like it plays a small part in evening the scales of responsibility. 

When she sees Himiko holding Angie’s hand, she softens and thinks that things that start bad don’t necessarily have to end that way; still, there’s an ever-present hurt behind her eyes, like thick purple bags sticking around from the trauma she’s had since Tenko’s death. But this isn’t the time or the place to drag up the past and soak it in lies to present on a platter and pretend like everything has been okay. Of course things haven’t been okay, tragedy has struck her friends time and time again, and she does wonder when it’ll be her turn, and how life will push her back down.

_“This, right now,”_ she thinks, _“is real. Worrying about the impossibility of the future won’t change a damn thing.”_

Just as everyone sits down on the grass and Maki begins to serve the food, the sun creeps out from behind a cloud and illuminates the scene; although the temperature was, and remains, mild, she sees the sunlight glistening off Kaito’s skin, and wonders how someone so beautiful can even be real in the first place. It’s like he’s been placed directly in this scene to warm the view; the way he turns his head up to the sky to stare as close to the sun as he can - playing Icarus, playing with fire, it’s in his nature. She supposes that it must be impossible for her to fall in love with normality, and so she’s attached herself onto the closest thing one can find to a God.

Her phone beeps with a text.

**< From Kokichi: 17:39> **We’re on our way. He’s still drunk so like…beware.

“Shuichi’s coming,” she tells Kaito.

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I invited him. Thought it might be good.”

“Mm.”

“You alright?”

“Yeah,” Kaito says, perking up, although his demeanour seems false, “just distracted.”

“What you thinking about?”

“Y’know, the usual. Work stuff. Mainly how I’m gonna explain my absence to Tsumugi.”

“Don’t worry about that, I’ll figure something out. We’ll tell her I had to go home and you had to drive me.”

“Alright.”

“Look…there they are.”

She points, looking towards Kokichi and Shuichi, cresting the hill that they’re all sat on. Shuichi still looks drunk, and his hair is undeniably greasy, but Kokichi holds him upright anyway. Perhaps her initial judgement of Kokichi was a little harsh, but then again, this could all be a lie, and she has nothing to _gain_ from trusting him.

_“Typical Maki,”_ she tells herself with scorn, _“weighing up friendship and trust like they’re something to be bartered for and logically acquired.”_

But she pushes this thought aside, as she usually does with things that she has neither will nor energy to confront, and smiles at her approaching friend and…acquaintance.

“Hey,” she says, directed at them both. Shuichi nods in response, struggling to pull his head back up once it drops a little further down onto his chest. Kokichi purses his lips in a solemn smile, and Maki, for once in her life, starts to understand him.

As Kokichi and Shuichi sit down next to the group, and Maki hands them a plate, she makes a point to look at Shuichi’s eyes - he’s wearing sunglasses, presumably ones that Kokichi fished out of a drawer in his untidy apartment, and she knows that he’s still drunk. With keen eyes, she searches his coat for any traces of alcohol, and tries to stifle her sigh when she sees a hip flask poking out of his pocket. Unsure of whether Kokichi merely didn’t spot it, which is unlikely, or if he was so exhausted with getting Shuichi out of the house that he simply decided to let it slide, she nudges Kaito. Without speaking, she nods her head in the direction of Shuichi’s coat pocket.

If she was in control here, she’d just let it go - it’s Shuichi’s choice if he wants to drink away his problems, and she’d be a hypocrite to chastise him, but she knows that Kaito wants to regain a little of the heroism that sticks steadfast in his mind.

As she predicted, he won’t let his friend drink himself to death. She watches as he slides over to Shuichi and whispers something to him, making him jump a little. Although she can’t hear them fully, she manages to make out snippets of their conversation, and from Shuichi’s expression, she can see that he’s not willing to give up his coping mechanism so easily.

_“Shuichi, you promised.”_

_“I…Kaito, it’s not yours.”_

_“I’m doing what’s right for you.”_

_“You don’t know what’s right for me!”_

Their conversation progresses like this, until a slight wave of guilt, so small that it’s barely there, washes over Maki for eavesdropping. Instead, she sits by herself for a moment, imagining what Kaito would say if he found her in this state - after all, she’d be lying to herself if she tried to pretend like she hasn’t been the same as Shuichi before. Would she want to be rescued? No - she’s no princess in a tower, she’s the dragon, but there is something so comforting about the idea of Kaito taking a glass of whiskey out of her shaking hands and replacing its ice-cold presence with his own, warm touch. But this isn’t something she has to confront, because he doesn’t know the ins and outs of her, even though he thinks he does; sure, he knows her past, and he’s seen her in a bad state, but she thinks that he’s too much of an optimistic idiot to let himself believe that she’s truly unfixable. And it’s not like she can’t have both alcohol and Kaito.

* * *

 

Jutted out of her thoughts, she sees Kaito standing up, hip flask in hand. She doesn’t want to disturb the air between him and Shuichi, but she sees that his face looks solemn as he walks away.

“Where are you going?” Maki mouths to Kaito, silently, when he turns to face her. He makes a pouring motion with the hip flask and she understands that he’s going to pour out the alcohol that Shuichi brought with him. In his absence, she sidles over to Shuichi and he automatically rests his head on her shoulder.

“It’s alright, y’know,” she says, “and he’s not mad at you.”

“It damn sure f-feels like he is,” Shuichi replies.

“He just gets like that sometimes. You know he’s only trying to play the hero.”

“It’s just upsetting that he thinks I always need saving.”

“Yeah, I get that. He’s got good intentions though, and you can’t fault him for that.”

“I suppose. It’s just…he’s been with me through some really tough shit, and I can never repay that to him.”

“I don’t think he’d want you to. He’s not trying to put you in his debt or anything, just…he’s just trying to be there for you.”

“But people being there for me means that they’ll leave, too. Like my uncle. I’ve just…accepted that I’m going to be a-alone forever, and every time I think that I could ever be otherwise, I just get reminded that…you can’t change fate.”

“Fate is bollocks, and you know it is. You’re smart, you deal in logic and facts, and you can’t possibly try and convince yourself that you’re doomed to be alone.”

“I can.”

“Then that’s the depression talking, and not you. C’mon, you know I’m right.”

“I…do know you’re right. But it doesn’t make me feel any better.”

“That’s fair. But look, you’ve got a boyfriend who’s devoted to you, you’ve got friends who care about you…I know none of that’s gonna take away the shit in your brain, but at least you know we’re here for you.”

“And my uncle…who was there for him?”

“You were, Shuichi,” she says, standing up, pulling him up with her into a hug, “you were.”

At that moment, between them both, there’s a beautiful intimacy of understanding. She feels like she’s clinging onto someone who _gets it;_ she’s a broken adult who longs for a childhood that she never had, and he’s stuck in a liminal state of aching responsibility and wanting to let go all at once.

“H-How do you know how to comfort people?” Shuichi asks.

“Back in the orphanage,” she tells him, softly, still holding him tightly, “a lot of the younger kids had nobody to turn to. I just had to learn how to be the parent they never got.”

“I…”

“It’s alright,” she tells him, stroking his hair, “you’re allowed to be sad.”

“I’m always s-sad.”

“That’s alright. One day you won’t be. Are you on medication?”

He nods, his chin making slight movements against her shoulder.

“Have you been taking it?” Maki continues.

He shakes his head.

“Why?”

“Sounds stupid,” Shuichi starts, and Maki puts her hands on her shoulders and looks into his eyes.

“It’s not stupid. Alright? If it affects you, it’s not stupid.”

As she goes to hug him again, she gives him a gentle kiss on the cheek, something which she’s seen Kokichi, and occasionally Kaito, do to him. It must be something he likes - this suspicion is confirmed when Shuichi hugs her tighter.

“I’ve been,” he starts, his voice trailing into quietness, “too depressed to go and pick up my repeat prescription.”

“That’s understandable. You know you’ll only feel worse if you stop taking it for a while, though, right?”

“Y-Yeah. It’s been waiting at the Chemist’s for three days.”

“Why don’t we go and pick it up now?”

“I…”

“C’mon, it’ll be ten minutes in my car. They won’t even notice we’re gone.”

With his face betraying the fact that he feels weak, Shuichi holds out his hand in a tiny movement that Maki almost doesn’t notice; but she does, and she laces her fingers in his, walking him to the car. Once they’re sat inside, she lets him distract himself with the radio as she drives to the Chemist. Even inside the building, she holds his hand for support, and she even pulls out her own card to pay for his prescription.

“Why?” Shuichi asks her quietly, once they’re outside the Chemist’s.

“Because someone needs to be kind to you.”

He almost bursts into tears, but stops when Maki offers him a cigarette from her packet and lights it for him. They sit on the hood of her car, her arm still around him.

“You think Kaito will be mad? That you’re here with me, instead of with him, y’know?” Shuichi asks.

“No way. He cares about you, and he wants the best for you.”

Once they’ve finished their cigarettes, Maki drives them back to the park. She notices the other side of the hill, the one that they’ve not been sat on, as she parks her car, and sees Kaito sitting alone by a the little stream.

“Go on, I’ll catch up with you in a minute,” she tells Shuichi, “and remember - everyone here wants you to be happy, we’re your friends.”

* * *

 

Almost forgetting to lock her car, she runs over to where Kaito is. Even though she can’t see his face, something about the way he’s sitting lets her know that everything isn’t okay. When she approaches him, he jumps a little in surprise.

“What are you doing?” Maki says. What she sees answers her own question.

The alcohol in the hip flask is half in his mouth, half poured out on the grass. He gulps it down before she can stop him, and when she approaches even closer, she sees that his eyes are completely unfocused and he’s sweating heavily despite the weather being mild.

“What’s going on?”

“T-The…blood…” Kaito stutters, turning his hands over in front of his eyes, “it’s _everywhere.”_

“There’s no blood, Kaito,” she says softly.

“I…I can’t s-stop it.”

“Kaito,” she says, gentle but firm, “there’s no blood. You’re here with me. We’re in Observatory Park, you’re sat by the stream, and you’re safe.”

His breathing quickens, and for the next five minutes, she repeats these facts to him until he stills slightly. He reaches out for her, and she lets him lean into her.

“I…we’re in Observatory Park,” he says, like he’s trying to convince himself.

“Yes, we are.”

“Shuichi…he’s alive?”

“Yes, he’s safe and he’s right over there on that hill.”

It takes a few more minutes, but Kaito gradually comes back to reality. He doesn’t even have to explain to Maki what just happened; she recognises a trauma-induced flashback when she sees one, and she doesn’t want to push it, especially since it’s obvious that he doesn’t want to talk about it. She can deduce most of it, anyway.

“I just wanna brush this off,” he tells her, fifteen minutes later; they’ve been sitting in silence, holding hands.

“That’s not healthy. I’m not gonna probe into the details of your flashback but…what triggered this?”

“Honestly?”

“Yeah, go on.”

“Seeing Shuichi sad…not being able to do anything…seeing him be comforted by you and Kokichi and not me…”

“I get that.”

“And then I started thinking about, y’know…when he _tried.”_

“Yeah, I imagined so.”

“But I’m fine now! So let’s go and join the others.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, it’s best if I just work through it.”

“Whatever you say, Kaito.”

* * *

 

As they join the others, a little bit of the knot in Maki’s stomach untangles when she sees Himiko making Shuichi laugh; she’s performing magic tricks and he’s trying to figure out how they work, despite the fact that Angie keeps telling them all that Himiko has _‘divine magic’_ or something like that. Gonta sits on the side, offering more food to everyone and smiling whenever anyone looks in his general direction. If she didn’t know better, she’d think that this is the picture of domestic bliss.

But she does know better.

She squeezes Kaito’s hand as they sit down. Everyone seems to gradually calm down, and the tension in the air is replaced with a sense of calmness and finality; silence turns to laughter, until they’re all spent and the food is gone.

As they’re getting ready to leave, Kokichi approaches Maki.

“I don’t know how the hell you did what the hell you did, but Shuichi seems happier.”

“Hey, maybe you could take a leaf out of my book.”

“Ew, you know I never would,” Kokichi says, but there’s no malice in his statement, “but anyway, I thought it might be good for him to stay with you and Kaito tonight. I’m not the best at cheering people up.”

He doesn’t say it, but Maki hears, _“I can’t even cheer myself up,”_ and she doesn’t push it further. She simply nods at him.

* * *

 

Everyone makes their way back to their respective houses and apartments, save for Shuichi and Kaito, who find themselves in Maki’s living room. As if on autopilot, she hands each of them a cup of tea - peppermint for Shuichi and chai for Kaito - and sits them down.

“Right, you two,” she says, firmly but calmly, “you both have some shit you need to sort out.”

“W-What?” Shuichi almost whispers.

“Yeah, Maki Roll, what are you on about?”

“There’s obviously something you guys need to talk about. You’re tiptoeing around each other and dealing with your problems on your own. I don’t want to be the thing that separates your friendship, because I value you both and you’re both putting the weight of the world on your shoulders.”

“No, it’s nothing like that,” Kaito says, “I still wanna be close to both of you.”

“Y-Yeah, me too.”

“So do I. We’re a pretty good trio, if I do say so myself,” Maki tells them, keeping herself composed for the sake of everyone, “but we’ve all got our own problems. If we’re gonna all move on from our respective shit, then we need to voice it all. I’ll go first.”

She closes her eyes for a moment and gulps down her anxiety, then speaks.

“I’m worried that I’m bad for both of you. I don’t know whether it’s my paranoia about my past, but I feel like getting close to people will only end up in everyone being hurt. Being with Kaito has showed me that…maybe I’m not necessarily the terrible person I thought I was, but I’ll always have an underlying anxiety about that. That’s why I’m doing this. Because you two need to talk about some shit from your own pasts, and once it’s all out in the open, we can all move on.”

“R-Right,” Shuichi says.

Kaito, with more determination and well-meaning indignation than she’s ever seen him before, addresses her. “Maki Roll, you’re _not_ a bad person. I don’t care if you think you are - that’s ‘cause you’re biased. We…we all are,” he looks at both of them in turn, now, “when we think of ourselves. I guess I’ve been trying to play the hero too much, and each time, I feel like I come up short and just fail you all. Shuichi…I feel like I failed you back then, and I feel like I’m still failing you now. And Maki Roll, I want to help you, but I don’t want to push you…I don’t want to push either of you. I’m worried about hurting people more than I’m helping them, but there’s a horrible impulse in me that makes it really hard to, y’know, stop.”

“And…I think I’m the opposite,” Shuichi says, jumping onto Kaito’s statement whilst he presumably still has the courage to open up, “because I feel so damn useless. I couldn’t stop my uncle from dying, and even then, I just created problems for everyone else by causing you all so much worry. Face it, you wouldn’t even be having this conversation were it not for me. And I just think I make you all… _sad._ Like, Kaito, I know that it fucked you up when you…well…y’know? It’s embarrassing to talk about but you were the one to save my life, and in doing that, you made my burden yours as well. And I don’t think I’ll ever forgive myself for that.”

“Shuichi,” Kaito says, “you’re _not_ pushing your problems onto me. I can’t even imagine how hurt you must have been feeling when you tried to…y’know?”

“It’s alright, you can say I tried to kill myself. I mean, I did, after all.”

“R-Right,” Kaito says, “that. Well…I’m still here for you, bro.”

“I…I appreciate that. And I’m here for you too. You as well, Maki.”

“I love both of you,” she says, “and you both deserve better than the shit that life has dealt you. But at least now you’re both not alone.”

“Neither are you,” Kaito says.

Reaching behind her sofa, Maki pulls out the Home Planet and flicks it on, watching the stars illuminate the ceiling. Just as they’ve all gotten settled down, Shuichi’s phone rings.

“Shit,” he says, “it’s Tsumugi. But I got this.”

He pushes the ‘answer call’ button.

“Hey, Tsumugi…Yeah, I know…I’m sorry…yeah, it’s not their fault, it’s mine…I’ve had a family bereavement…Kaito and Maki and Kokichi were helping me…it’s like those animes you like, where friendship is the main helpful thing…yeah, exactly like that…alright, thank you…yeah, we’ll be in work tomorrow.”

He smiles at Kaito and Maki, which they both warmly return.

_Friendship._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry that this chapter is late, and that I still haven't updated Heaven's Gate! I had an exam on the 19th June, and I had laptop issues for a few days before that, and since then I've just been relaxing. I'm on holiday now, and will be until Saturday, but I wanted to get this chapter up for you guys, so here it is! Huge thanks to my wonderful friend Nebbie, who suggested the idea of Kaito having a flashback when I told them the idea for this chapter!
> 
> Also, I've been hearing a little bit about Article 13. I'm not well versed in legality, so I can't exactly tell what this will mean for the future of my fics and stuff like that. I'm going to get an external hard drive, and save all my fics onto that, so I won't lose any of my actual work, but I don't want to lose the wonderful comments from you guys and my fic on here, since I want it to stay here forever even once it's finished! So if any of you guys know more than I do, and can explain it to someone (me) with Dumbass Disorder, I'd appreciate it!
> 
> Anyway, thank you for reading, as usual! Please leave a comment if you liked this!
> 
> P.S. I'm debating titling each chapter of this with an actual chapter title, rather than just "Chapter 1, Chapter 2..." - what do you think?


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maki doesn't feel well. It might be something more, it might not. But it prompts an important conversation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING! This chapter deals with depictions of child abuse, death, homophobic/biphobic slurs and graphic descriptions of violence. Read safely, and skip this chapter if you can't read it! Your health is most important!

Weeks stretch out into months, which languish onwards until spring finds itself once again fading into summer. Life has been peaceful, momentarily, and Maki adores the feeling of seeing Shuichi get progressively better; with Kaito, she’s never been happier. He treats her the way she longed for without even realising it, like the subconscious void in her soul has been filled with starlight. Each morning, she wakes with a smile on her face, makes coffee in two cups, and finds that she doesn’t even mind that her bedroom has gotten a little messier with clothes she doesn’t own strewn across her chair and in her wardrobe. 

There’s an intimate kind of comfort in the softness of sleep, with his arm around her, his shirt against her cool skin. Whether they’re at her apartment or his, she still wakes to the same scene; Kaito, blinking against the sun, his only rival for brightness, glasses shaping his face and hair tangled, loose around his cheeks. 

This morning, however, she wakes to stomach cramps and pain, quickly bubbling and bursting into nausea that hits the back of her throat. The world seems to be spinning, popping in her ears like fireworks, and she only just manages to drag herself out of bed and to the bathroom before she vomits, fast and violent.

Still dazed from the rapid transition between peaceful sleep and agonising pain, she clenches the lid of the toilet bowl in her fists until she feels empty and, yet, no less sick. Sitting back on her heels, she hears Kaito come in behind her; she realises that she’s shaking only when he pulls her close and rubs her back. He softly brushes her hair out of her face with his hands, and ties it up with a hair-tie he already had on his wrist. Kissing her on the forehead, he leaves, only to come back with a glass of water. 

“Here, take slow sips, darling,” he says, holding the glass whilst she drinks from it, “and I’ll go and call Tsumugi to let her know you’re not coming in today.”

“I-I can’t,” Maki says, her voice hoarse but powerful, “I don’t wanna have another day off. She’ll hate me.”

“She’ll hate you even more if you get the whole office sick. C’mon, you think you’re okay to go back to bed or do you want to stay here a bit?”

“I’m fine,” she says, immediately contradicting herself by retching and spitting into the toilet bowl. Her stomach has nothing left to give. 

“No, you’re not. Come on, lets get you back into bed, it doesn’t look like you’re going to be sick any more.”

Her legs feel shaky, and he senses this, gently lifting her up and carrying her to the bed. As he tucks her in, she checks the bedside clock and sees that she’d normally be leaving for work right about now.

“You should go, Kaito. You don’t wanna be late.”

“I will, I will, once I know you’re okay. I’ll go and get you some ibuprofen, and give me a call if you need me to come home at any time, okay?”

“Alright.”

She watches silently as he gets dressed, and once he’s left, she purposely ignores the ibuprofen on the bedside table. Of course, she wants to feel better, but…

Well, there’s something that she has to test first.

* * *

 

Once she’s sure that Kaito will be in work and she won’t be seen by anyone, she shoves on some clothes - one of his t-shirts, for comfort, and a pair of old leggings. Grabbing her purse and keys, she heads out of the apartment block and drives, cautiously, towards the pharmacy. 

Although the pharmacy is small, it’s located within a much larger supermarket, and so she makes every effort not to be seen. As surreptitiously as she can, she puts a box of three pregnancy tests into her basket and slides towards the self-scan tills. Alone.

And then, everything goes to hell.

“Maki Roll!”

It’s not Kaito. It’s not his voice; his voice doesn’t have a whiny kind of malice in it, but she knows exactly whose voice matches that description. And she doesn’t want to turn around and see Kokichi; she holds her basket close to her chest and tries to use her purse to cover the contents inside, but soon enough, he’s peering over her shoulder and reaching his hands to pull out the box of pregnancy tests.

“Oooooh, Maki Roll, got a bun in the oven?”

“Shut up, Kokichi. I’m just making sure I _don’t.”_

“Does Kaito know?”

“Of course he does, you idiot,” she lies. It feels comfortable on her lips, to deceive…she thought she could have been changed for the better, but no…she’ll always be like this.

“And he isn’t supporting you in buying your pregnancy test…ooh, tests! You _definitely_ wanna be sure.”

“Shut _up!”_

“And look at him, going into work with a smile on his face like he’s not being a deadbeat dad!”

Rage flashes behind her eyes. She punches him in the arm, and her body goes static and cold when she sees the supermarket security approaching her.

“Ma’am, I’m going to have to ask -”

“Oh, no, she isn’t bothering me,” Kokichi says, “we’re friends. This is practically how she says _I love you!”_

“Right,” the security guard says, “but still, any more violence and I’ll be forced to remove you from the premises.”

“You wouldn’t manhandle a pregnant woman, now, would you?” Kokichi taunts. The guard looks a little flustered and, presumably deciding that this whole encounter isn’t worth it, walks away. In a rush to get away from this whole thing, Maki pulls out some change from her purse - she doesn’t want any trace of this on her bank statement - and dumps it into the self-scan. In her flustered state, she hadn’t even scanned the pregnancy tests, and her money falls right back into the change deposit box. With Kokichi smiling menacingly at her the whole time, she restarts the transaction and then bolts from the shop.

* * *

 

Back at home, she rips the packaging open and takes it to the bathroom. The wait is agonising, especially since the sickness floods back to her and she retches; it’s only two minutes, but her mind takes her far away from the apartment, to a future that she might be forced into. Would she mind? Would it really be so bad to have a family with Kaito? Perhaps it’d be nice; domestic, even, to have a little version of her or Kaito running around - Kaito would take their child stargazing and insist on naming them something like Celeste or Luna, and she’d be able to put a use to all the things she learned by caring for children in the orphanage.

But then…there’s the orphanage. And how selfish it would to be to bring another child into this world when there are thousands already homeless, parent-less…could she forgive herself for allowing herself to give birth when she could just as equally provide motherhood to a child that’s already alive? 

Still, she just needs to think of how things would be with Kaito. Like Christmas mornings and first days of school and holidays and camping and making packed lunches and, damn it, _having a family._

The test, as fate would have it, is negative. In confusion, she tries the other two, and both of them yield the same result. Negative, negative, negative.

So it isn’t morning sickness. It’s just some damn virus or something. That’s what she wanted, right? This is the best outcome, isn’t it?

And, as the day progresses, she does feel slightly better, especially now that she’s not worried about taking painkillers that might harm an early pregnancy. By the time work should be finishing in an hour, the anxiety about what Kokichi might have said burns harder than the sickness in her chest, and she decides to walk across town to the office so that she can meet Kaito after work.

He comes out of the building looking exactly as he did this morning, which gives her a little bit of hope. But hope is dangerous, hope can be crushed, and that’s exactly what she starts to fear, especially when Kokichi runs out of the building and sees Kaito. They both spot her at the exact same time, and she can’t glare at Kokichi too intensely, lest Kaito suspects that something is up.

As it happens, it doesn’t matter whether she glares or not. Because every shred of understanding or friendship she thought she had with Kokichi dissipates as he slaps Kaito on the back - reaching up to do so because of how much shorter he is - and gives him a big smile.

“Congrats on becoming a father, yo!”

“W-What?” Kaito laughs, but there’s a sense of unease in his smile.

“Did I not tell you? Oh, stupid me! I saw Maki Roll at the store this morning buying three - yes, three - pregnancy tests! Maki,” he looks directly at her and grins, “since I’ve been _soooo_ supportive, you have to name it after me, m’kay?”

As Kaito stands there in confusion, Kokichi skips up to Maki and whispers in her ear.

“There’s only room for one liar around here. Of course he didn’t know, you have an awful poker face. Now you don’t have to lie to him.”

With that, he’s gone.

“I’m…” Maki says.

“It’s alright. Let’s just go home.”

She gets into the passenger seat of his car in silence. On the drive, he seems to have a white knuckle grip on the steering wheel, and they end up back at his place, not hers. She only realises once she opens the car door to get out just how hot it was inside, with the heating turned up to full and the tension stifling every breathable bit of air.

* * *

 

Inside Kaito’s apartment, he takes her hand and leads her to the living room. Softly, as though he’s terrified of breaking her in half, he sits down with her and sighs.

“When were you going to tell me?”

“I’m…I’m not…I’m not pregnant. I just had a thought, this morning, that…y’know, I might have morning sickness, and I just wanted to be sure.”

“That’s reasonable,” he says, “and I don’t want you to think I’m angry or anything, ‘cause I’m not. I’m just…scared, I guess. What would we have done if you _were_ pregnant? We’re just dumb twenty-somethings in the grand scheme of nothingness, I barely even feel like an adult half the time, and I can’t…I couldn’t…”

“Hey,” she says, looking him in the eyes and putting her hand gently over his, “that doesn’t sound like the Kaito I know. We can’t keep thinking about possibilities…the fact is, I’m _not_ pregnant, and that means we’re in exactly the same position as we were yesterday. We’re happy, yeah?”

“Yeah. It’s just…I’m not cut out to be a father. I couldn’t be. Look, I know you were feeling ill before, but can we just…go somewhere? There’s stuff I need to tell you…stuff I haven’t told anyone…and I can’t do it sober. And I’m less likely to cry in public.”

“Alright, Kaito. I’ll get my coat. You just…stay here, okay? You’re going to be fine.”

She quickly pulls the warmest thing of hers that she can find out of Kaito’s wardrobe - a red cardigan that she left here weeks ago. Everything else that she needs is already in her bag, and he takes her hand once they’re standing by the door.

* * *

 

They find a bar off the corner of some street. It’s one of those where you have to descend stairs to get inside, which, for some reason, makes her feel safer. Still, she’s uneasy when she sees how blank Kaito’s face looks when he downs shot after shot - not because she fears he’ll hurt her, but because she fears that he won’t be able to stop if he hurts himself. But there’s nothing she can do or say that wouldn’t make her a hypocrite, so she matches him glass for glass until they both slink away from the bar and onto a quiet table with two chairs in the corner. Everyone else is watching some football game on the screen on the other side of the room, or playing pool, or sat by the bar - they’re in relative solitude, which is what she thinks Kaito needs.

“I’ve lied to everyone,” he says, staring into his gin and tonic, “and telling the truth might make you hate me.”

“I doubt it.”

“I lied to Rantaro, and to everyone I’ve ever met who’s asked about my parents. I lied because it was nice, y’know, trying to convince myself that anything, fucking _anything_ but the truth was true.”

“Tell me. It’ll be alright.”

“I never told you how my parents died, did I?”

She shakes her head.

“I loved you for that,” he says, “for never asking. But when people did ask, I’d lie. I’d lie and hope that they believed it enough to not go and look me up on the internet, find out my parents’ names, because if you scroll far enough, you can probably find it. My name isn’t there for like, privacy protection. I was only fifteen at the time.”

“What happened?”

“It’s a long story.”

“We’ve got time, and alcohol.”

“I guess,” he says, taking a long swig out of his glass, “alright then. My mother’s name…bless her…was Himari. She never married my father, they had me quite young. And he got…bad. He’d like, hit her and stuff, y’know? It was only when my grandma - my mother’s mother - helped her leave that she finally got away from him. I was maybe five, six, at the time? We moved cities, all of us, my mother, grandma, grandfather…and it was nice. We were away from him, and happy.”

He looks heartbroken as he finishes his drink. Pausing his story for a moment, he goes back up to the bar, and comes back with four more gin and tonics, two for each of them. Then, he continues.

“I came out to my mother as bisexual when I was fifteen. She was so supportive, and I was so proud of myself and who I’d become away from my father. My memories of him…at that time, anyway…were pretty sketchy, here and there, since she left him when I was so young. I just remember…blood, and fists, and shouting. But I thought he was gone forever. And I didn’t think, _god,_ I was so stupid, _I didn’t think._ It was all over social media, you know, me going to pride with my mother, me joining LGBT groups. I guess…that’s how he found us.”

“He found you?”

“Yeah. I…I came home from school one day. I remember stupid details of that day, like how I’d got full marks on a test, and how I’d stroked a stray cat on the walk home, how I’d stopped to treat myself to a milkshake after school. And I keep thinking…if I hadn’t done all those stupid, unimportant things…I might have got home before he got there. I might have been able to protect her. But…I didn’t. I got through the door and something was just…off. There was a smell in the air, something that brought me back to before we left him. Looking back, it was the smell of blood. And I went into the kitchen and…he was _there._ Making mac and cheese on my mother’s stove. And then there was…against the door to the garden…her body. All bloody and terrified. He had a sawed-off shotgun in one hand and a wooden spoon in the other, just stirring the food and making these horrible noises.”

“Kaito,” Maki says, “I’m…so sorry.”

“It’s alright. I need to finish this story so I never have to tell it again.”

“You don’t have to -”

“No! I do. I…do. ‘Cause he turned to me, and started saying all these things about how my mother had raised…a queer, a faggot, all of that. And he looked at her like she was scum. With all the blood on the floor and the pot starting to boil over and he just…stared at her. He looked like he’d never hated anyone as much as that before, but then he looked at me with those same eyes. Those same, dead eyes. Telling me how he was going to run away with me, how he was going to crush the gay out of me, make me into a man. And I was stupid; reckless, even. Because all I could think of was the fact that I couldn’t stop him. Here I was, fifteen, barely any muscle, transfixed on my mother’s dead body. He could easily have just scooped me up and put me in his truck and driven me somewhere far away, changed my name, indoctrinated me into his ways. So I thought…I’d rather die like my mother than live like my father. And I tried to provoke him. Told him how I’d always be bisexual, how my mother was a million times the parent he ever was. I knew, right then, that I wanted to die. I accepted that I was _going to die,_ and I just wanted to lie on the floor next to my mother and bleed out looking at her face, not his. But it didn’t turn out like that.”

He downs both of his drinks, and then one of Maki’s. Once more, he goes up to the bar, and comes back this time with shots. Although he should be absolutely wasted by now, he seems to be keeping everything except his story locked inside his body.

“He pressed the barrel of his damn sawed-off shotgun against my chest, and I thought, _well, I’m going to die._ In that second, I accepted it, made my peace with it, and just closed my eyes. But I could still hear him. I’ll never forget what he said.”

“What did he say?”

“He said… _one day, you’ll be a man like me.”_

“Kaito…”

“And then I heard the shotgun go off. I remember there being blood all over me, but I wasn’t hurt, and I…I opened my eyes and he was slumped against the cupboards, the pot of damn mac and cheese all over him. He looked disgusting. I didn’t even phone the police.”

“Why?”

“I was just…numb. All over my body, numb. I can’t remember anything coherently from that point on. I think, at some point, I just crawled over to my mother’s body and tried to give her CPR, but she was gone before I even got home. And I just sat there, my head in her lap, until one of the neighbours called the police because of the second gunshot, and they all barged in ready for a shootout, not two dead bodies and a terrified child, but I still didn’t care if they shot me. After that, I went to live with my grandparents.”

“Did you go to therapy?”

“Yeah. I only stopped going like, last year. They diagnosed me with PTSD, and I had to see them once, sometimes twice, a week. But my grandma and grandfather were so good about the whole thing, and I can still see my mother in them. I think…I’m a lot better now, but I guess repressing all this stuff for almost ten years left me with a few scars.”

“Kaito, I’m…I’m glad you told me. You don’t deserve to have gone through that. Your mother…she’d be so proud of you now.”

“Would she? I’m in a deadbeat job, never achieved anything…I’m just like him.”

“No. No you are fucking not. Because the way you treat me…it’s with the softness and care that I bet you learned from her. You’re nothing like him.”

“I don’t want to be like him.”

“I don’t think you ever could.”

“But that’s why I don’t want to be a father. ‘Cause he was obviously…different before they had me. I keep thinking that if I wasn’t born, she’d still be alive.”

“No, Kaito, you can’t blame yourself for that.”

“I know…logically, I know. But I just can’t forgive myself for the fact that she’s gone. Look, I’ve always got a picture of her in my wallet.”

He opens it up to show Maki. It’s an old photograph, taken on an old 35mm camera and folded down to fit in the transparent slot of his wallet. His mother looks just like him. She has the same bright smile, and her hair spikes around the edges in the same way that he styles his; her dress is soft, full of pictures of yellow sunflowers, and she’s holding his hand. There he is, Kaito, about eight years old; ice cream around his face, smiling up at his mother with no hint of impending tragedy in his eyes. They look so happy.

“I’m so sorry,” Maki says.

“Don’t be. You didn’t shoot her in the chest. Sorry…that was graphic.”

“It’s alright. You have to let these feelings out, y’know?”

“I’m just…I’m glad I’ve got you, and my grandparents, but I don’t want to be a father in case I turn out like that.”

“You wouldn’t. But I promise, I’m not pregnant, and everything is going to be okay.”

“I…I just wanna see my grandparents soon. I know they’re getting older and they’ve not got decades left. Would you…I mean, like, if you’re free…would you wanna come and have dinner at their place on Sunday?”

“I’d love that.”

“Dinner it is,” Kaito says, forcing a smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof there's a sad backstory...Kaito is such an interesting character in terms of his masculinity complex and hero complex so it's interesting to explore that. Please comment!


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maki goes for dinner at Kaito's grandparents', and their relationship progresses. A new employee starts at the office.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter introduces the character of Korekiyo Shinguji. If you've read another of my fics, you'll know that I love amaguji, and I really want to put Korekiyo in this fic! I'm just putting this warning/disclaimer here, because I know that he's a sensitive character to handle. So this is a promise that there is nothing gross about his character in this AU (looking at you, Chapter Three). In this AU, his sister died before he was born. There's nothing implied or stated between them, because I don't support that plot point in Danganronpa V3; instead, I want to work with Korekiyo's character as I would have liked to see him in V3 - taking the tragedy of a family death and working through it in a way that provides an interesting character whilst not relying on the shock value of the 'twist' of Chapter Three.
> 
> He is only a background character, as with all characters in this fic that aren't Kaito and Maki. I sincerely and honestly promise that I'll handle his character with the utmost sensitivity and discretion, and I will eliminate all of the potentially triggering aspects to his character in this fic. I would much rather stray from canon than promote a character with such a backstory. Thank you for reading this disclaimer, and I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Sunday morning rolls around with all the crisp worry of a week drawling onwards to its end; the sun, chained behind clouds, only barely peeks the translucent grey light through the curtains as Maki wakes and sees that Kaito is still asleep. She feels like she’s an old song, something rattling through her bones, coming down - stuck in a gramophone reality, aching to be in the past, to be in a time where she could protect her younger self from the harshness of the world. If she could only fix the past, she’d be _better_ in the present; more able to help Kaito.

Kaito, who sleeps softly. He’s been tense since he told her about his parents’ deaths, and reasonably so - it’s not a story that anyone, especially someone as good to the world as Kaito is - should have to live through and tell. Would it, therefore, be better for Kaito to have died back then, instead of being forced to live with the pain of trauma?

She hates herself for thinking this, for even entertaining the thought that Kaito could be worthless enough to stoop to her level of rationality. Whereas she knows that she wishes she was dead sometimes, she imagines that he pushes himself to keep on living; pushes himself too far.

He stirs in his sleep, and wakes. Rubbing dreams of a better life from his eyes, he tries to smile at her, even though his face falls flat and doesn’t even attempt to pretend that it’s anything to do with being tired. As if on autopilot, he gets out of bed, and walks over to her, planting a sleepy kiss on her head before going to the bathroom.

“You sure you’re okay with me meeting your grandparents today?” Maki asks. She knows the answer is yes, but she feels an awkward need to make conversation.

“Yeah,” he mumbles - presumably with a toothbrush in his mouth, “they’ll love you.”

“I mean after…well, I didn’t want to force you to be too domestic just ‘cause you opened up to me.”

Kaito pokes his head out of the ensuite bathroom, toothbrush still in his mouth, his hair messy and falling around his face. His pyjamas are creased and he looks tired in every way a person can be tired, but he smiles at her - a little more genuinely this time.

“It’ll be fine.”

He goes back into the bathroom and Maki hears him finish getting ready. When he emerges, his hair wet from the shower, he falls onto the bed and looks up to the ceiling.

“You’re the first serious relationship I’ve ever had,” he says. 

“Really?”

“Yeah. People tend to think I’m some sort of player, ‘cause I’m extroverted and friendly, but it’s a lot to date someone.”

“I know.”

“So I’m glad you’re gonna meet my grandparents.”

“I’m glad too. It’s alright to be nervous, though. I know I am.”

“I know. I guess I can’t make you feel any better this time…I’m just as anxious as you are. But if we’ve got each other, we can do it, right? Yeah, we can do it!”

_Fake positivity. As usual. Does she hate him for this? Does she admire him?_

She watches as he stands in front of the closet for a good five minutes. Whilst she was ready a while ago, he seems to be taking longer than usual to decide on what to wear and how to do his hair. Although, she supposes, she’s never seen him get ready for Sunday dinner at his grandparents’ before - she saw him after he’d been at theirs for Christmas, but that’s it, really. 

“Here,” she says, “let me give you a hand.”

Picking out a collared, short-sleeved shirt, dotted with stars, from the wardrobe, she pairs it with a comfortable dark purple jumper and jeans. When he smiles at her, she notes the falsity of anxiety wrinkled onto every atom of his being. Still, she pushes aside her own nervousness and helps him tie his hair back into a little bun; casual, but respectful. A perfect mix of things to be when he doesn’t know how he’s supposed to act.

“You look handsome,” she tells him, fixing his collar.

* * *

 

Then, like the day is slipping through their fingers, trying to grasp at any semblance of something real, they’re in Kaito’s car, driving to dinner. He grips the steering wheel and won’t let go, even when they arrive; it takes her putting her hand gently on his arm for him to release a little of the built up tension enough to lock his car and walk inside.

Unsure of how to act, she follows him. It’s not like she’s had a world of experience with _meeting the family_ before, and she awkwardly smiles at him when she takes off her shoes. Kaito shouts a greeting, and his grandparents walk out of the kitchen; they’re both wearing matching aprons and smiles that meet their eyes, although they stand back a little in shock when they see Maki.

“Grandma, grandfather,” Kaito says, “this is Maki. My…girlfriend.”

“Oh, how lovely,” his grandma says, “it’s nice to meet you. I’m Yoko. And this is my husband, Hiroaki.”

“I-It’s nice to meet you.”

“Come through, come through,” Hiroaki says, “dinner is almost ready!”

He walks up to Kaito and says something about stargazing to him, leading him off into another room to show him a new telescope, which leaves Maki standing alone with Yoko.

“There’s no need to be shy,” Yoko says, with a genuine smile, “any friend of Kaito’s is a friend of ours!”

“I just…thank you for dinner.”

“It’s not a problem at all. I’m very glad that Kaito has someone to be with. He told me that he told you about…you know…”

“Yeah, he told me. Don’t worry though, I won’t bring it up. I can imagine it’s as hard for you to talk about as it is for him.”

“I’m getting old, Maki. I’ve not made peace with it, but I know I’ll be with my daughter again one day. It’s nice to know that when Hiroaki and myself pass on, Kaito won’t be alone. He’ll have you.”

“Y-Yeah.”

“I imagine they’ll be in there for another ten minutes, talking about space and all the stars they can see with that new-fangled telescope! I can barely work the mobile phone that Kaito gave me. Would you like a cup of tea before the meal?”

“Thank you, that would be lovely.”

Yoko takes Maki into the kitchen, where she finds herself hit by the wonderful smell of freshly cooked food - bread only recently baked in a basket of warm rolls, meat in the oven, the epitome of the family dinner she never had. 

“Are your grandparents still with us, Maki?”

“O-Oh…I…I don’t know. I don’t know who they are. I’m an orphan, actually.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry, dear.”

“Don’t be. It’s not something that really tears me up; I’m an adult, and I can craft my own family with friends and closure in myself.”

“That’s a wonderful way to see things. I hope you can convince Kaito of that. Between you and I…I’m worried about what he’ll do when we pass over.”

“What he’ll do?”

“How he’ll cope, I mean.”

“Ah, I see,” Maki says, taking a gulp of the warm tea and composing herself, “I imagine…yeah, I know it’ll destroy him. But not forever, I think. He’s a strong man, and he can lift himself up from tragedy and become the best version of himself.”

“I’m so glad you see him the way we do. He’s been through a lot.”

“Yeah.”

“Would you mind helping me set the table for dinner?”

“I would love to,” Maki says, and she genuinely means it. She feels like she’s part of something.

With the plates all set, Kaito and his grandfather join them at the table. Kaito sits next to Maki, holding her hand underneath the table whilst Yoko serves the food. It’s so homely, it would be easy to forget that there should be an extra place for Kaito’s mother at the table, but when they’re so close-knit like this, Maki can feel the emptiness affecting Kaito.

“This food is lovely,” she says, “thank you.”

“It’s our pleasure,” Hiroaki says, “my wife’s miso soup is certainly something to write home about!”

Yoko glares at her husband across the table, with a fleeting motion of her eyes towards Maki. Maki decides not to say anything - they don’t need to tiptoe around her just because she doesn’t have a traditional _home,_ and besides, she feels comfortable around them, knowing how much they did for Kaito. Instead, she just eats a large spoonful and smiles at them both.

“It truly is lovely! You’ll have to give me your recipe, Yoko, I’d love to try and recreate this!”

“Thank you,” Yoko says, “I’d love to teach you how to make it one day. I tried to teach Kaito but…well…”

“I’m a disaster in the kitchen?” Kaito says, laughing genuinely.

They eat and talk intermittently, as the atmosphere gets even more comfortable with each bite. When Hiroaki takes the dishes away, Maki and Kaito offer to clean them - an offer graciously accepted by his grandparents.

Alone in the kitchen, Kaito washes the dishes whilst Maki dries them. It’s an effective production line, quickly descending into laughter when Kaito tries to wipe away some dirt from Maki’s cheek and gets soap bubbles on her face.

“You seem happy here,” Maki says.

“I am. Not just ‘cause they remind me of my mum, but ‘cause they’re…they’re like parents to me, anyway.”

“I’m so glad you said that.”

“Why?”

“Because you deserve that.”

Hiroaki comes into the kitchen when they’re done with the dishes, inviting them into the living room for honey toast. He sits in an armchair at the head of the room, smoking a pipe whilst Yoko gives each of them plates of sweet dessert. 

“So Maki,” Hiroaki says, “you work with Kaito?”

“Yeah,” she replies.

“I’m glad you have friends at work, son.”

“Kaito has loads of friends,” Maki says, pride in her voice, “he actually helped me develop my own social circle.”

“Hey, Maki Roll,” Kaito says, “that was all you! You’re an awesome person to be around!”

She smiles at him, a gesture which he returns with a warmth that she hasn’t seen in him in the past few days.

The day weans into evening, and soon enough, there are kisses goodbye and promises to return soon, “drive safe”s and “I love you”s, and Maki doesn’t feel left out at all. When they’re in the car, Kaito is loose in his grip on the steering wheel, humming along to the radio, windows down, night embracing the car without invading it; the stars paint themselves onto the windshield, ever moving, until they arrive back at Maki’s apartment.

* * *

 

She checks her letterbox before they make their way up to her place. It’s just the usual; bills, nothing personal, until she finds a letter from her landlord. Opening it before she shows Kaito, she sees that the rent is being put up once the fixed tenancy agreement closes in the next month. Her face falls.

Affording her own place, and her car, as well as maintaining her lifestyle - which she doesn’t consider to be extravagant, just wine and cigarettes and feeling normal - will be impossible with the extra money she has to pay per month. She can’t help it. Nothing can ever go right for her. 

It would be weak to cry, so she doesn’t. Instead, she forces herself into her old personality; who she was before she met Kaito, the stoic, self-proclaimed bitch who shows nothing but a poker face and a hardened heart.

It’ll work. It’s worked for her whole life.

“Darlin’, what’s wrong?” Kaito says when she joins him.

_It doesn’t work._

She breaks down in tears. She doesn’t _understand_ why she’s so emotional now - she’s been able to bottle things up for years, and suddenly, the act of trusting someone has ripped stoicism from her hands and forced her emotions into the choking feeling inside her throat. Thrusting the letter into his hands, she wipes her eyes and, embarrassed, turns away.

“Live with me,” Kaito says.

“What?”

“Live with me. We’re always round at each other’s places anyway. It’d only make sense to share the rent of one apartment together, especially since your landlord is pulling this dick move.”

“I…don’t have much stuff anyway. You’re right, it would make sense.”

Kaito grins at her and offers his hand for her to take as they make their way up the stairs to her apartment. Together, they pack up her clothes and any ornaments into bags and boxes, anything that’ll carry things back to his car. Although she initially worries that they’ll have to make a return trip to get everything, she realises at the end of packing that she has even less things than she thought initially.

Is this it? Her life, packed into boxes? Her freedom, restricted by being unable to return home alone? But then again, she’s found herself wanting to be alone less and less since she met Kaito, and she doubts whether she’s genuinely having second thoughts, or if she’s just not used to being with someone so impulsive and reckless. But she helps takes the boxes to the car.

That’s all the confirmation she needs in her own mind.

And suddenly, a bed that she stays in when she’s visiting becomes _her bed,_ with her side being hers forever; the starry cushion that she cuddles when Kaito is in the bathroom is now _her cushion._ She realises that it’s not at all like sacrificing herself, only about gaining more whilst developing trust and intimacy with someone that she genuinely, truly, loves. 

When she falls asleep, she trusts someone else to check that the door is locked, for the first time ever.

Monday mornings are her new favourite time of the week. Because now, she’s living with someone that she loves, getting ready together in the morning. She helps him pick out his tie, and he plays with her hair and tries to style it in different ways for work; when they drive there together, nobody even bats an eye, since they’ve been arriving to work together for months now. It’s the happiness that she never thought she’d have.

* * *

 

When they arrive at the office, Tsumugi calls Maki into the briefing room.

“Maki,” she says, playing with her pencil - the pencil topper is some kind of black and white bear, and Tsumugi is never seen without it, like it’s some sort of good luck charm, “I have an extra job for you to do today.”

“Oh?”

“We have a new employee starting. I have to meet with corporate this morning, so I want to leave it to you to show him around.”

“Right. Where is he?”

“He’s just in the bathroom. I have to rush out, so meet him outside here in about five minutes, alright?”

“Sure.”

Tsumugi leaves the room, and Maki is left slightly annoyed. Why would Tsumugi choose her to show around a new employee? The least she could have done is introduce them, so she doesn’t have to make awkward small talk with him, but Tsumugi is always in a different world to the rest of them. Sometimes, she treats the employees like they’re characters - people she can fit easily into boxes to get jobs done.

All she can do is wait. Five minutes pass, and then another two, and the new employee still hasn’t turned up outside the briefing room. Thinking that he might have gotten lost, she texts Kaito to meet her outside the men’s bathroom.

“What’s up?” Kaito says when he sees her.

“Tsumugi wants me to show a new employee around, but I don’t think he’s left the bathroom. Can you go and check?”

“Sure thing.”

Kaito walks through the door and Maki waits. And waits. Until the door opens, and Kaito steps out, followed by the new employee.

He’s a man with long hair, tied back in a ponytail with a few short strands framing his face. He looks down, as if he’s terribly shy, and plays with the hem of his cardigan whilst avoiding eye contact. Kaito smiles at Maki and walks away towards his cubicle, leaving her alone with this new employee. She notices a cane in his hand.

“Hello,” he says, “I’m Korekiyo Shinguji. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“I’m Maki. Tsumugi wants me to show you around.”

“I’m sorry. I imagine that would be a pain. I don’t mind if you want to get back to work; I can tell Tsumugi that you gave me the office tour anyway.”

“Nah, getting off work for an hour is kinda making this a good day.”

“Oh. Thank you.”

“What took you so long in there?” Maki asks.

“Oh, I…I’m a little…anxious. I was trying to…calm down. I’m sorry. I know that isn’t the ideal first impression.”

“Hey, it’s fine. I used to get that way too. You’ll fit right in here, though. You might feel anxious and shit now, but give it a few weeks, and I reckon you’ll be best friends with some people in here!”

“Friends? That’s strange. I don’t want to negate your opinion, Maki, but I’m just here to work. I don’t want to force anyone into a friendship.”

_“God, he reminds me of myself years ago,”_ Maki thinks.

“And what if people just, like, _want_ to be your friend?”

Korekiyo laughs sadly, but says nothing.

“Anyway,” Maki says, “you’ve found the bathroom already. This floor is for sales, which is us - if you’re working under Tsumugi, I imagine you’re here for sales too, right?” 

Korekiyo nods. 

“So, you’ll have that empty cubicle over there,” she says, “and you can put your stuff in there now.”

Korekiyo opens his rather large briefcase and takes out a few items; a glass teapot, with some little tins of loose leaf tea, a stack of books on anthropology, and a pin badge, which he puts on the wall of his cubicle. Maki leans in to read it. _‘They/Them,’_ it states.

“They/them?”

“It means I…I don’t identify with being either wholly male or wholly female.”

“Oh! I’ve heard of that. Non-binary, right?”

“That’s correct. I’m sorry if that bothers you…I don’t want to cause any distress around here.”

“Korekiyo, it’s fine. Half this office are LGBT! You’ll fit right in. But you should put that pin on your cardigan, it’d be so much nicer on there - pride, y’know?”

“You think people will be okay with that?”

“Of course they will! And these books,” Maki picks up the stack of them, “you’re interested in anthropology?”

“Yes! But…I don’t study it professionally.”

“How come?”

“I can’t afford to. My sister died before I was born, and my parents got into a lot of debt trying to find treatments for the cancer that took her. They couldn’t afford to send me to university.”

“I’m sorry,” she says, “that sucks. You can always save up and go to university though, right?”

“That would be the dream. Right now, I’m content with having a job, and my little apartment with my dog, Marcel.”

“That sounds lovely, Korekiyo.”

“I think it’s…quite beautiful, really. To have something so simple. I think happiness is one of the most nuanced feelings.”

“You’re absolutely right there. Hey, you smoke? You could come to the shelter with me and we can talk more.”

“I do. Thank you for…well…accepting me.”

“C’mon, Korekiyo. I feel like you’re gonna make friends here.”

Maki walks alongside Korekiyo, noticing how they limp a little, even with their cane. When they’re not looking, she pulls out her phone.

**< To Rantaro Amami: 10:02> **Come for a smoke now. There’s someone I want you to meet.

Rantaro is already in the smoking shelter when Maki and Korekiyo arrive. He stands up immediately, extending his hand to shake Korekiyo’s.

“Hey,” he says, “nice nails! French manicure. You do that yourself?”

“Yes,” Korekiyo replies, “thank you.”

“I love stuff like that! And your hair is so nice. I’m Rantaro, by the way.”

“Korekiyo. Thank you, again. I would prefer my hair short, but I grow it out periodically to donate it.”

“That’s so cool! You want some?” Rantaro holds out a spliff, and Korekiyo accepts. Maki winks at Rantaro.

“Hey, Korekiyo,” she says, “how’d you feel about Rantaro finishing off the office tour for you?”

“I’d like that.”

She finishes her cigarette, leaving the two of them together, smiling at her phone as she texts.

**< To Rantaro: 10:13> **Ask them about anthropology. You’re welcome. ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I'm sorry that this chapter took so long to update. I've been quite busy recently!
> 
> I ran a mystery account on Twitter. It's a killing game based on the Saw franchise, with the cast of V3. It involved audience participation and interesting deaths, so if you're interesting in checking that out, you can find the account [here](http://www.twitter.com/danganronpaSAW)!
> 
> Because of this, I ended up delaying updates of my longer fics like DHLMYHS and Heaven's Gate!
> 
> I should be back on track now! Thank you so much for your patience, support, and your lovely comments. I hope you enjoyed this chapter!


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maki and Kaito go on a work retreat, camping in the woods.

**< From Rantaro: 13:21> **THEY WEAR CARDIGANS?? AND GROW WEED IN THEIR BACK GARDEN?? THINK I’M IN LOVE WILL UPDATE SOON XOXO

Maki smiles at her phone as she gets the fifth text in a row from Rantaro. He’s on a date with Korekiyo, and she told him to give her updates on how it goes; it’s nice to feel like he’s finally getting the happiness he deserves, especially after the fiasco that was his relationship with Kokichi. Kaito’s head is on her shoulder, reading the messages too, and she feels him break out into a grin; the stubble on his chin tickles her and she giggles until the world falls into love and they end up kissing on the sofa in their apartment.

_Their_ apartment.

It’s been two weeks since she moved in with Kaito, and she’s surprised at just how easily she fell into the swing of sharing her entire living space with him. All of her prior fears about having no personal space have been alleviated; he gives her time to be by herself and recharge socially, so it suits her just fine. And, she will admit, rolling over in the morning to find Kaito on the other side of the bed, instead of being greeted by the coldness of sleeping in a double bed alone, is nice. Just nice. But _just nice_ is all she wants. She doesn’t need fireworks or roses every day, she just needs sleepy morning kisses and coffee in the pot for two.

“What’cha thinkin’ about, darling?” Kaito asks, mumbling into her shoulder.

“Just how…how happy I am.”

“Aw babe, you’re so soft.”

“Shut up,” she teases.

“Never.”

Laughing, she falls further into him as they hold each other tightly, staying in the comfort of a sweet Sunday afternoon like this moment will always be here, tangible, or crowned in the gold of a memory that will never be bittersweet. 

“We should go and pack,” she says, making no effort to move.

“What for?”

“The work retreat? Tomorrow? Your memory is shit!”

“Oh yeah, I forgot that was on. Camping with a bunch of coworkers and Tsumugi…sounds riveting.”

“I know, I’d rather be at home with you too, but we’ll look bad if we don’t go.”

“Can’t we just say you’re allergic to…I don’t know…tents or something?”

“Allergic to tents? Remind me never to ask you to lie for me in court,” she laughs.

“Alright, fine, something else then. Just anything to get a good night’s sleep in our proper bed, not on some dumb forest floor.”

“I thought this’d be right up your street?”

“It would be, normally. If it was just me and you, and the stars, then hell yeah. But with Tsumugi…I mean, she’ll inevitably have planned some bullshit team building exercises.”

“What, like watching Naruto with her?”

Kaito snorts with laughter, giggling so hard that he falls off the sofa. Maki takes this as her only chance to get him to pack, so she takes his hand and leads him to the bedroom. 

“You’re really taking shorts? You’re gonna be freezing,” she says.

“Hey, you got a problem with my hairy legs?”

Kaito sticks his leg in the air like he’s showing off, and, tempted by some childish love, she grabs it and tips him off-balance onto the bed. This leads to her sitting on his lap, kissing him in-between sentences of declaring their love, suitcases left to somehow pack themselves whilst they have more important things to do.

Before all of this, before the golden sunlight and the ache to see tomorrow, Maki would have finished packing methodically within half an hour. Everything would have been neatly folded, and then she would have sighed, and sighed, and closed up the suitcase with a bottle of whiskey in her hand. And back then, she would have thought that any alternative to this would have been subpar, but she realises now that having tunnel vision doesn’t mean that the light at the end is anything but monotony once more.

So she’s happy, really, honestly, happy. With their backpacks and two messy suitcases, Kaito sitting on them to close up the zips, she drinks in the moonlight of the night that has passed her by. Even when there’s nothing left to do, and she’s lying in bed, eyes heavy-lidded, Kaito’s arm around her, she’s satisfied. The fabric of his shirt - her favourite, the one she likes to wear to bed - warms her and she feels safe, so much so that she dares now to utter the word in her mind. No longer forcing herself into the sickening reminder that she’s real, because now, life is something that she’s glad to be a part of.

* * *

 

When morning dawns, it breaks across her face in light leaks of the early morning sun before her alarm has even gone off, a sign that she’s well rested and, potentially, excited for the work retreat. Not because of team building, or camping, or any of that bullshit, but just because Kaito is there with her, and that makes every drop of experience something clear and beautiful.

He’s out of bed before she is, hopping in the shower whilst she gets another ten minutes of sleep, lulled away by the sound of water hitting the floor and her boyfriend humming some out-of-tune song. Her mind takes her far away, back to the orphanage, where the shower water was perpetually lukewarm and no songs echoed through the hallways; she shivers, pulling the duvet closer around her, the strange mid-sleep state cooling around her lungs and restricting her thought and breath in one motion.

And then he’s there. Kaito. Warm and soft from the shower, his hair dripping slightly as he leans down and kisses her to wake her fully; she snaps out of the vines of memory and worms her way back into the real world, where he’s holding her hand and smiling, and she’s getting out of bed, and her feet are warm in slippers, and she’s rubbing sleep from her eyes, and she’s resting her head on his chest as he walks to the bathroom with her, and everything good in the world settles into her heart.

When she’s ready for the work retreat, she pads her way into the kitchen, finding that Kaito has made breakfast for them both; eggs over easy, with a pot of fresh coffee steaming away.

“I thought we should eat something proper before we go camping. You never know what food we’ll find out there,” he says.

“Kaito, we’re not going to be fucking Bear Grylls, there’ll be like, campfire sausages and shit.”

He leans over the counter and kisses her; she smells his green apple shampoo and smiles. Breakfast leaves them full, and then it’s just a matter of driving to the office together, where they find a large coach waiting outside the building. There are some people there already; Kokichi - annoyingly bright eyed as usual, sitting next to an overtired Shuichi. Since she’d predicted this earlier this morning, she and Kaito had stopped by a takeaway coffee shop, getting an extra cup of black coffee for Shuichi.

She spots Rantaro, but he doesn’t see her just yet; it’s enough time for her to notice that the cardigan he’s wearing isn’t one she recognises. He’s standing by the side of the coach, a cigarette in hand, staring off into the distance with a vague, wistful smile on his face.

“New cardigan?” Maki asks.

“O-Oh…hey, Maki,” Rantaro smiles, looking down at the cardigan he’s wearing, “it’s…”

“Let me guess…Korekiyo’s?”

“Obvious, huh?”

“In the best way.”

“So you spent the night at theirs?” Kaito asks, flashing a knowing smile.

“Yeah. But nothing like _that._ Just…we made some mushroom tea and looked at the stars and they told me all these cool anthropology facts.”

“So, comparatively,” Maki laughs, lighting up her own cigarette, “already ten times better than Kokichi?”

“Oh, _absolutely.”_

When they see Tsumugi approaching, an oversized backpack on her back, they take their seats on the coach. The drive is long, and after an hour, Maki turns around and sees Rantaro sleeping on Korekiyo’s shoulder. She points to Kaito and smiles at him, both of them sitting comfortably in the happiness that they feel when their friends get the goodness from the world that they deserve. 

It’s not long before Maki gets sleepy too, and Kaito notices; taking off his jacket, he lays it around her as she leans into him. She falls asleep easy enough, despite the bumpy coach ride, with him playing with her hair and sharing his headphones so that she has music to fall asleep to. Without falling into a deep sleep, she finds herself between the half-awake and half-asleep state that she’s familiar with, each jolt of the coach waking her a little, giving her the opportunity to curl further into Kaito. Right now, she doesn’t even care about Kokichi inevitably making fun of her later, because she’s so comfortable in all ways that a person can be.

* * *

 

“Wake up darling,” Kaito’s soft voice rouses her; he’s whispering gently to her, his goatee tickling her neck slightly, “we’re here.”

She lifts her head and sees the forest surrounding the coach; Tsumugi must have arranged for them to camp deep in the wilderness. Kaito smiles at the sight, and she wants to ask him whether he’s been camping before, but she’s still wary of bringing up any unwanted childhood memories - at least not now, when he looks so happy.

Her feet push through the thick of the forest floor, leaves mingling on one another in a daze of greens, vague browns, colours of changing seasons and all things good. When Tsumugi stops them, announcing that they should all put their tents up on this patch of flat ground, Maki realises two things in tandem. One; she has _no idea_ how to put up a tent. And two; from looking at his face, she can tell that neither does Kaito. So there goes her question about whether he’s camped before.

Whatever. It’ll be an adventure to figure it out together.

And that’s a thought she never imagined herself having.

Five minutes in, and Kaito is tangled in the nylon of the tent, struggling with two different sized poles; she wants to help him, but she’s stuck in some kind of tent-trap herself, and watching him is hilarious in itself. Although, it is a little embarrassing to see everyone else having considerably less difficulty than them. Kokichi and Shuichi brought a self-making, pop up tent, much to her jealousy, and Rantaro seems to have assembled both his own tent, and Korekiyo’s, in five minutes flat. 

Laughing, she manages to untangle herself and run to Kaito, helping him prop the material of the tent onto one of the poles he’s holding, and then it just becomes a conveyer-belt chain of smiles and giggling when they realise that they’ve left the instructions at home. So much so that they end up on the floor of the forest, surrounded by discarded poles, the nylon of the tent covering them as they laugh, and laugh, and laugh until they can’t stop.

“Are you, like, for real?” 

Maki looks up and sees Rantaro, trying not to smile as he stands over them.

“Unfortunately,” she replies, “we actually are this stupid.”

It doesn’t take long for Rantaro to give them a hand putting up their tent - or, rather, do it for them. Once they’re inside, Kaito pulls out a string of fairy lights from his backpack and brightens the inside of the tent with multicoloured bulbs and cushions. She doesn’t even have it in her heart to roll her eyes at all the unnecessary things he’s brought, like extra pillows and a jumbo bag of marshmallows.

Then, Tsumugi is calling them all outside of their tents, asking them to pair up for some bullshit team building exercise. She looks ridiculously excited as she hands out a sheet to each pair, with a list of things to find - it’s a scavenger hunt, and a poorly made one at that. Maki scoffs at things like “take a video of you successfully skipping a rock on the lake” and “find some animal footprints”, but she doesn’t have time to laugh about how ridiculous this is before Kokichi bolts off into the forest, getting a head start, with Shuichi trailing behind him.

“Let’s get going then,” Kaito says, “I won’t be beaten by Kokichi of all people!”

Five minutes in, they’ve already managed to tick off some of the easier options, like finding certain leaves and boring things like that. Maki already has no motivation to carry on, but she’s content enough to watch Kaito’s many attempts to skip stones, passing forty-five minutes this way, sitting on a rock by the lake, a cigarette in her hand, the sun in her eyes. The light glints off Kaito’s hair; his sleeves are rolled up and his light brown jacket is next to her, as he’s ankle-deep in the water, pants hitched up to his knees, loudly exclaiming after every failed attempt.

She jumps a little when someone approaches her from behind, tapping her on the shoulder, but she relaxes when she turns to see that it’s only Rantaro; Korekiyo stands a little while behind him, still, Maki presumes, nervous around all these new people. Smiling, Rantaro hands her his completed tick sheet, and she notices that he’s pencilled in an extra ‘task’.

_“Get high with Rantaro.”_

He laughs as he raises his eyebrows, to which she nods. Calling Kaito over, they sit with their backs against the rock, watching the sky turn to a blaze of purple as evening grabs the day and watercolour-paints a scene for them to watch. Not long after, they’re joined by Kokichi and Shuichi, the latter looking dishevelled and out of breath, and they shuffle up against the rock to make room for two more.

Which makes six of them. Maki, Kaito, Rantaro, Korekiyo, Kokichi, and Shuichi, all sat passing a spliff between them as the sun begins to set against the evening air. The scavenger hunt is long forgotten, and Tsumugi is probably looking for their little splinter group by now, but it’s easy to just let everything else pass them by, the sun almost set, the late air cool against their skin, as the world softly turns into dusk.

* * *

 

By the time they get back to the campsite, Tsumugi has already made a fire with the rest of the office employees. She stares at them with a disappointed look, branding them _‘the office troublemakers’,_ but all Maki can do is laugh. Laugh, until the fire swims in front of her and Kaito is passing her sausages to cook in it, and then she’s replacing laughter with the warmth of love, overtaking everything within her until she’s got no more room for any other feeling. His arm around her shoulder, sharing food and kisses; when she whispers to him that she’s cold, he tells her he’s glad he packed an extra jumper, and then she’s wearing that over her shirt. It smells so much like Kaito, fancy cologne and cigarettes and, eventually, as the night wears on, weed. The purple gradient and star pattern are just so…so _Kaito,_ and it’s far too big for her, so much so that the sleeves hang down past her hands and the jumper goes down to her knees, but that just makes it all the more homely.

Slowly, other employees filter off and go to bed in their tents, whilst Tsumugi wanders the immediate area around the campsite, looking for phone signal, a scowl on her face.

“She’s probably pissed off that she can’t get Crunchyroll to load out here in the woods,” Kaito says, and Maki snorts with laughter so hard that her beer almost comes out of her nose. 

“I guess we should head to bed soon, too,” Maki says, looking over at the rest of them. Everyone’s either yawning or half asleep already, and so she takes Kaito by the hand and leads him back to the tent, collapsing alongside him onto the mass of blankets and pillows, the fairy lights above them illuminating their faces in soft hues. 

The night is cold, which gives them an opportunity to cuddle up together, eating marshmallows straight from the bag and drinking lukewarm beer. She feels like she’s finally living the dreams she had as a teenager, of just being able to do dumb things, have fun, without worrying about life at the orphanage or money or the people in her life who hurt her. And yet, there’s something in the back of her mind, telling her that this will all come crashing down on her, that she doesn’t deserve this, or anything good. 

“Can I talk to you?” Maki whispers, so softly that she half hopes that Kaito won’t hear her.

“Of course.”

“It’s a secret. A really big one,” she says, tears forming in her eyes. A memory, almost, something that she’s repressed - like she’s tried her whole life to convince herself that it was just a dream that felt too real. But no…this happened, and in the joy of her life right now, she can’t stop thinking about it.

“You don’t have to tell me. But I won’t judge you if you do.”

“I nearly killed someone once.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. I didn’t think it was fair not to tell you, but…I get it if you don’t wanna date me anymore.”

“No, Maki Roll, it’s not that at all. I know you, and I know you’re not cold-hearted or cruel. So if you did…then there had to be a reason, right?”

“Yeah.”

“And that means that you’re not a bad person. It’s not about what you do, it’s about why you do it.”

“I suppose. It’s just…I was only a kid. Fourteen. It was at the orphanage…there was this guy who’d visit a lot, y’know, like picking out who he wanted to adopt?”

“Mm-hm,” Kaito nods, listening.

“Everyone seemed to love him. He’d always bring us all gifts. And he set his sights on adopting my best friend. I was happy for her…I really was. Until he dropped his wallet in the orphanage before he left. I went outside to return it to him, and I saw him talking to another man. About…some sort of cult.”

“A cult?”

“Yeah. He was saying how he’d ‘chosen’, or something. Like…he’d chosen who to adopt so he could raise them in this cult. And I heard him talking about assassins. That night, I researched. Tried everything I could to find out about this cult, pulled in every favour I could think of. Turns out the cult took in orphans and raised them to become…killers. Assassins.”

“Shit.”

“I know. And he’d all but signed off on my best friend’s adoption, so when he came back to sign the papers, I…I took a knife from the kitchen and I…I stabbed him. He didn’t press charges, probably because he didn’t want the cult to come under scrutiny in court, but everyone thought I did it because I was jealous. They thought I was jealous of my best friend.”

“And you didn’t tell them? The truth, I mean.”

“How could I? They wouldn’t believe me, and even if they did, knowing all that would only put them in unnecessary danger. And I was just a kid, they couldn’t really throw me in jail, especially because the cult and the orphanage hushed everything up. She didn’t speak to me after that, my best friend. I spent the rest of my time in that orphanage completely alone.”

“Maki Roll…”

“I’m sorry. I’ve ruined a perfectly good night by telling you all this. I just…I guess I don’t understand how someone like you could ever fall for someone like me.”

“I would have done the same thing. You did it ‘cause you wanted to save your friend. And more than that…you let everyone hate you instead of just telling them the truth, ‘cause you wanted to save them from danger. That makes you a good person, at least in my eyes.”

“I think you’re too naïve.”

“And I think you’re too hard on yourself,” Kaito says. They’ve both found themselves sitting up, cross-legged, giving the conversation their full attention. He opens his arms. “Come here.”

She rests against his chest, and he hugs her tightly, warming her up in the midst of the cold night. Playing with her hair again, he whispers to her, “I’ll stay with you forever.”

It sounds like a promise. She falls asleep against him, believing in something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAAAAAAAND I'm back! I'm so sorry that I haven't updated this fic in a while; I moved into my new house with my mates, uni started back up, I ran/participated in komahina week, I've been seeing my gf, and suddenly time has passed me by and it's almost November! Which means that it's almost the one year anniversary of the beginning of this fic, so I'll try and do something nice (maybe an extra long update??) for that when the time comes!
> 
> Anyway, if you're still reading this fic after my little absence, then thank you SO SO MUCH! I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and I'll really try to get back to my every-other-Friday update schedule now that I'm in the swing of things with uni and I have a semi-routine. Love you all! 
> 
> P.S. Please comment if you enjoyed this chapter :^)


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maki comes home from the shop to a dark house, and Kaito isn't replying.

When she tells Kaito her worries, he listens. And that, in itself, is terrifyingly strange, because she’s opening up the nine circles within her and inviting Virgil inside, hoping beyond the static in her chest that he’ll be the one to guide her out of all of this. Even then, when she finds herself smiling, it’s never taken for granted; it always takes her off guard that happiness is something she can access.

With this, there’s also the new avenue of spontaneity. Sure, by now, she probably should be used to waking up and not _exactly_ knowing what each day will bring, but Kaito still manages to surprise her with whatever idea he has planned for his _carpe diem_ philosophy. It’s easy, sometimes, to imagine him as a revolutionary, blazing in the manmade light of rebellion; or, perhaps, a hero forgotten by time, someone who saved a life - just one life, just hers.

It’s all this, and more, the idea of love and hurt and trust, that takes her mind away from the walk back from the shop at the corner of Kaito’s - no, of _their -_ road. He asked her half an hour ago to nip out for cigarettes for them both, and she likes the walk anyway. Even as winter is no longer approaching, but has approached, past tense, the cold doesn’t bother her as much as she guessed it would. There’s no more reminding herself that everything is real - she feels completely safe, and that, for some reason, is okay.

* * *

 

“Kaito, I’m home!”

No answer.

The lights are all off, which is strange, since Kaito usually has at least a little reading light on in the living room. She imagines him now, sitting there with his glasses on, hair tied loosely back from his face, flicking through some mystery or adventure novel like the world is still so, so good in his eyes. And she’s sure that she’ll see this again, because it’s just the damn lights being off, and Kaito not replying - it doesn’t mean that anything bad has happened.

Yeah, she needs to think more like him. Think positive. Live each day. That’s what he’d say. No - that’s what he _will_ say, because he’s _fine,_ and she’s just overthinking things again.

The house is still dark.

“K-Kaito…?”

“Surprise!”

The lights come on, and he’s standing there, completely fine, completely alive. Her worries leave her faster than she can form, with any coherency, a simple enough reason as to _why_ she was worried. Her best guess is that, if she believed in reincarnation, they must have loved and lost each other in another life - but that’s absurd, and she knows it. 

Kaito has decorated the living room with Christmas decorations - it’s mid-December, she remembers, and it must have totally slipped her mind to even put up a tree. Everything looks rushed, but she can’t exactly fault him for any of that; he’s only had the half an hour she was out of the house to get all of this done.

“What’s the surprise?”

“Christmas! Well, technically,” Kaito says, “it’s the anniversary of when we first properly met.”

“You mean…”

“The Christmas party, yeah! So I thought, since it’s a Saturday and all, we could have our own little Christmas party right here!”

“God, Kaito, you idiot. I love you.”

“I love ya too, Maki Roll! Fancy a cocktail?”

“I fancy _you,_ dumbass.”

“I’ll take that as a yes. Just call me Kaito Mimosa!”

“That’s…that’s the worst joke I’ve ever heard.”

“But you’re smiling,” Kaito smirks, and she can’t deny that he’s right once more.

“When did you learn to make cocktails?”

“I didn’t, I’m just kinda winging it. Here, taste it.”

Maki takes a gulp of the drink, with far too much confidence, knowing the amount of alcohol that she saw Kaito put in the shaker. As expected, it burns her throat, but it doesn’t taste half bad, and she smiles up at him when she sees that he, too, has been taken aback by the alcohol content.

“It’s…it’s nice.”

“You’re _such_ a bad liar,” Kaito says, putting his free arm around her and guiding her to the small Christmas tree, “but the cocktails aren’t what I really wanted to show you. What I wanted to give you…is this.”

He pulls a tiny box, so small that she hadn’t even seen it until it was right in his hand, from the artificial branches of the tree. Her heart drops - there’s only one thing small enough to fit inside a box like that, and she’s just got comfortable with the idea of a relationship at all, let alone marriage.

_“Please, don’t let him propose,”_ she thinks, _“I love him, but not yet.”_

“Jeez, Maki, you’ve gone all pale,” Kaito says, putting his hand behind his head now, nervously, “I’m hardly getting down on one knee. Not this year, anyway.”

He winks at her, and then relief. _Relief._ All over her body.

“It’s just a promise ring,” he continues, opening the box to show her a beautiful gem perfectly mounted against a silver band, “not an engagement. Not anything that has to change. Just something from me, to you, to promise you that I’ll always be there.”

“K-Kaito, I…I love it. Y’know, commitment is a terrifying thing, and I know I’m preaching to the choir here - don’t deny it, I’ve seen it in your eyes. Sometimes, you’re just as scared as I am. But…for the first time in my life, I feel like I don’t have to face my problems alone. And neither do you. We’re both fucked up, sad, all that shit, but god, when I’m with you…and this ring…it’s comforting. It’s like we’re made for each other. I think, in every universe, there must be a me and there must be a you and we must be like this, together, in every timeline.”

“I mean, if the multiverse theory is true, there’s gotta be at least one universe where…”

“Shh,” Maki puts her finger against his lips, “not a single one. Never.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YALL THOUGHT I WAS GONNA PULL A SAD ANGST CARD BUT NO!!!! SURPRISE PARTY!!!!
> 
> The first year anniversary of this fic was two days ago (on the 18th), and it's my birthday today, so hell yeah! This is a super short update, because I wanted to get something out on my birthday and I'm gonna head out soon to meet my friends, so I hope you enjoy this, even if it would be nicer to have it as a little bit of a longer chapter. But whatever, life's a rollercoaster!
> 
> Let me impart my wisdom of a whole twenty years onto yall: be kind, be brave, be spontaneous. You got this.
> 
> My friend Yuli also drew some AMAZING art inspired by the New Year's chapter of this fic! It's amazing, check it out [here](https://twitter.com/__shslprince/status/1065053220668624898)!


	21. Chapter 21

_“Just something from me, to you, to promise you that I’ll always be there.”_

That’s what he said. And she believes him. Because why not? It’s him, Kaito Momota, there at the beginning and the end of her life, the beginning and the end of the universe itself. Sincerity is in his soul. She knows that he won’t let her down. The first promise in her whole damn life that she’s ever put any faith in. Holding on, holding on, holding on.

_“Just something from me, to you, to promise you that I’ll always be there.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter coming soon.


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Promises mean something.

_“But thanks, thanks for calling it the blue sky…_   
_You said that._   
_I had a dream where you said that. Thanks for saying that._   
_You weren’t supposed to.”_

_ **Straw House, Straw Dog; Richard Siken** _

* * *

 

Half a year passes, and every day, she wears the promise ring that Kaito gave her. It’s not to say that she has the best six months of her life, but the fact that they’re _good,_ and that good has become normal for her, speaks as a testament to how much Kaito has changed her life. Although she can’t, and won’t, give him all of the credit. She’s worked on herself tirelessly, changing her harmful coping mechanisms and thought patterns that used to threaten to drag her back into the darkest pits of depression. And it’s something that she deserves the credit for, and for once, she’s willing to give that victory to herself.

Because she wakes up, every day, with a smile. And she wakes up next to him.

God, life is so, so good.

The thought of marriage, that nagging question that’s been in her mind since he pulled out the not-quite-proposal ring back in December, doesn’t seem quite as daunting any more. She’s happy with things as they are now, but with the future being an _inevitability_ and not an unfathomable concept any more, she knows that one day, she’ll be able to say yes to a proposal with a clear conscience. Six months of thought have brought her to the easy conclusion that if she does get married, it will be to him. It’s Kaito Momota, or nothing at all.

Now, she recognises that she has time. All the time in the world, in fact, because she isn’t scared of the future any more. There’s no fear in her mind about time running out, about the seemingly inevitable day where she can’t pay her rent and she’ll end up on the streets. Because now, she has stability in a way that she’d never really thought possible before. So waiting for marriage isn’t a terrifying thought like it used to be. One day, maybe just at the tail end of her twenties, she’ll walk down the aisle and fall in love all over again, and it will be beautiful; but until then, things are still perfect the way they are.

Damn, this really is love, isn’t it?

* * *

 

Even work, now, doesn’t feel like the chore it used to be. She sits in her cubicle and smiles at the photos of her and Kaito that have crept their way all around her; still, in the middle, there’s the very first post-it note that he left her, like the first stepping stone on a timeline that she’s happy to have been whisked up into.

As she types away on her computer, the packet of Marlboros in her bag nags at her, until she decides that she’s worked enough and deserves a break. She stops by Kaito’s cubicle on the way out, hoping to drag him outside with her for some company, but it’s empty. It’s only 10am - way too early for him to have gone for his lunch. Thinking that he’s probably already in the smoking area, she shrugs it off and makes her way outside.

She sees Rantaro and Shuichi, but not Kaito.

“Hey guys,” she says, pulling a cigarette out of the packet and lighting it, “you seen Kaito?”

“He was in the office last I saw him,” Rantaro says.

“Yeah, me too,” Shuichi tells her.

“He’s probably just in the bathroom or something. I’ll text him later,” she says, “anyway, how are things with you and Korekiyo?”

“Actually really good,” Rantaro says, “we’re taking it pretty slow, but they’re like, ten times better than Kokichi was for me. No offence, Shuichi.”

“None taken. He’s being a bit of a prick at the moment anyway.”

“How so?”

“I don’t know…it’s just like, he’s amped up his practical jokes or whatever you wanna call them. I keep asking him if there’s something on his mind, but he just shuts me out.”

“Aren’t you used to that by now?” Maki says.

“I thought I was, but…every time I think I get close to him, he just pulls away even more. I’m starting to think I don’t even know who he really is.”

“If there’s something up with him, the best thing you can do is talk it out.”

“He won’t even try.”

“Have you tried?”

“I mean…yeah. But…I guess…it’s just hard. I don’t want to push him away, but I’m worried.”

“It could be nothing,” she says, taking a long, thoughtful drag on her cigarette, “you know how he is. Rantaro can vouch for that.”

“Yeah,” Rantaro says, “he…he used to do this with me, too. It was exhausting, but every time he did it, there was always an underlying cause. It’s like he only knows how to deal with his feelings by putting another layer on his personality. Good luck unearthing the actual cause of what’s going on, man.”

“T-Thanks, I guess.”

“Anyway,” she says, stubbing out her cigarette and standing up, “I’ll leave you two to it. Good luck, Shuichi.”

Walking back inside, she notices Kokichi on his way out to the smoking area. She tries to hail him, but he turns his face away from her and speeds up his pace.

Strange. But then again, he’s always been odd. There’s nothing to worry about.

In the building, she sees that Kaito still isn’t in his cubicle. Of course, there are a million things he could be doing - he could be sneaking off to the shop, he could be working in another section of the office, et cetera, et cetera. He’s fine. This is something she still needs to work on, this worry that the people she loves will leave her.

She texts him.

**< To Luminary of my Heart: 10:20> **Fancy going for lunch somewhere nice today?

**< From Luminary of my Heart: 10:37> **sure!!

**< To Luminary of my Heart: 10:38> **Everything okay? Where are you?

**< From Luminary of my Heart: 10:40> **fine!! i’m just in the bathroom lol

**< To Luminary of my Heart: 10:41> **For twenty minutes?

**< From Luminary of my Heart: 10:43> **shhhh i’m hiding from tsumugi she’s got some meeting that i just know she wants me to go to and i can’t be arsed :^)

**< From Luminary of my Heart: 10:43> **so i’m hoping if she can’t find me she’ll find someone else to go

**< From Luminary of my Heart: 10:43> **so don’t worry sweetheart <3

There. A perfectly reasonable, and perfectly _Kaito_ explanation. It comforts her, and she gets back into the swing of typing, until the clock on her computer tells her that it’s 11:59, and she walks over to Kaito’s cubicle, hoping that he’ll be back.

He is.

He smiles at her, getting up from his desk and putting his coat on.

“Where we goin’ for lunch, babe?”

“It’s up to you,” she says.

“Well, there’s that nice new Thai place across the street?”

“You’re on. I take it Tsumugi got someone else to go to the meeting?”

“Yeah, I think she asked Shuichi.”

“Oh.”

“Anyway, c’mon! We’ve only got an hour,” he says, taking her hand as they walk towards the restaurant. She says nothing when she sees Shuichi’s car still in the office parking garage.

The restaurant is small and quaint, and the food is delicious. She orders sticky rice and papaya salad, but he only orders a small bowl of soup.

“Is there something on your mind?” Maki asks between bites of food.

“What? No, why?”

“You’re…you seem different. Normally you’d order way more food than this.”

“I’m just taking it easy. I had a big breakfast, didn’t I?”

“Did you?”

“Yeah.”

“Please, Kaito. I don’t want you to lie to me.”

“I promise you, Maki.”

“No. No…you don’t get to say that. Promises _mean_ something, Kaito. This ring,” she holds her hand out, “this _means something._ And I can tell that there’s something wrong. Or you’re hiding something, at least. Whatever it is, we can work through it together. Please.”

“Honestly, I’m fine! I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“You told me about,” she lowers her voice, “your parents. I told you about when Himiko tried to…whatever. My point is, our worst moments are only made better by helping each other through it. So if there’s something on your mind, let me help you.”

“And what if there genuinely _isn’t_ anything on my mind? What do I say then?”

“It’s just hard to believe you, y’know? I’ve known you for over a year. I’ve seen you cry. I’ve seen you drunk. I’ve seen you high. And this…this isn’t how you usually act.”

“Can we just leave it and have a nice lunch?”

“No.”

“Then what? I have to make up a lie because you won’t believe me when I say that there’s nothing wrong?”

“That’s not…I…”

“Maki Roll, please.”

“I can’t just leave it. I’m worried about you.”

“You’re overthinking this!”

“I’m not!”

“I promise you, and yes - I mean it - _I promise you._ I’m fine. Can we just have a nice meal?”

“Fine. But…just…just don’t shut me out, alright? I can’t bear it.”

“I won’t. And if something ever does come up that I need to talk about, you’re my first port of call.”

“Alright.”

As far as lunches go, it isn’t the best. The food is lovely, but any conversation they have feels forced to some level. Maki can’t trust herself, now, because maybe she _is_ overthinking this. But there’s still a gut feeling, and if she’s learned anything from her past, it’s to trust her gut. Which isn’t to say that there’s necessarily something wrong, just that there’s something Kaito is keeping from her.

Back in the office, he gives her a kiss when they reach his cubicle. And it feels so genuine that for a moment, she doubts that anything is wrong at all. But then they pull away, and he won’t meet her eyes, and she walks back to her own cubicle with a greyed-out, static feeling covering her whole body.

* * *

 

When they sit together in the car to go home, she doesn’t talk. Instead, she just lets him drive, as she stares out of the window, trying to make some sense out of the thoughts in her head. The only thing she’s sure of right now is that she loves him.

Despite the summer months dawning on them, the apartment is cold when they get in. Drained, she changes into pyjamas and gets into bed, leaning one arm out from under the duvet and beckoning for him to join her.

“Give me an hour, sweetheart,” he says. And so she falls asleep alone.

It’s not so much sleep as it is a nap, because she wakes within the hour to smell something delicious from the kitchen. Padding her way through the hallway, she sees Kaito cooking, and a bunch of roses in a vase on the table.

“What’s this?”

“Oh,” he turns around, smiling breathlessly at her, “it’s for you. To apologise for making you worry.”

“I…”

“And since I kinda made lunch a bit shit, I thought we could redo it.”

“Kaito, I…”

“And even though there really is nothing wrong, I get that you worry. And I should have paid more attention to that. I should have helped you instead of getting all defensive. So if you want to talk, we can talk over dinner. It’s nearly ready.”

“What are we having?”

“Katsudon,” he smiles at her.

“You remembered it’s my favourite…?”

“What, when we had it at that restaurant on Valentine’s Day and you kept talking about how much you loved it for like, a week afterwards? Of course I did, darlin’. I love you.”

“I love you too, Kaito.”

They sit down for dinner, but no questions come to her. This little gesture has proved to her that he’s not hiding anything from her. How ridiculous it was that only hours ago, she gripped the sink in the work bathroom and looked at herself in the mirror, picking out every flaw she could see, picturing that Kaito had fallen out of love with her and in love with _Kokichi_ of all people. No, it’s definitely just coincidence that they both acted weird.

Even then, Kaito didn’t even act strangely. There’s a reasonable explanation for everything that he did, and she has to learn to be satisfied with that. Now, the only worry she has is that she’s losing her mind.

Once the plates are cleared, and the roses in the vase have been moved to the living room, he joins her in bed. She curls up as he lies behind her, his arm gently stroking hers, and then sleep comes easily.

* * *

 

_She’s suddenly standing in the middle of a field, an expanse of grass stretching out across the entire universe. There aren’t any flowers here, and the sky has no clouds, making everything look like it’s just a repeated version of itself, stretching on into forever. And she walks. It’s like she already knows what to do, trudging onwards as the scenery never changes._

_It feels like it’s been days when she approaches two trees. Despite having no knowledge of botany, something in her mind recognises them: an acacia tree, and a yew tree. They spell out a fork in the road, but there don’t seem to be any paths behind them. They just stand there, reaching over her; they would block out sunlight, if there was any to begin with._

_Rooted into the ground, she can’t move. She’s confused. It feels like she’ll be here forever, staring at these two trees, begging for something to make the first move on this chess board._

_And then, her body is dissolving. She’s being pulled towards these trees, so close that she can see each atom that brings them into being; the ground beneath her falls into nothingness, and the world goes dark. She’s plummeting to the ground, and she feels the lightness and terror in her chest, but she isn’t getting any further away from the trees._

_She never hits the ground._

* * *

 

Waking with a gasp, Maki looks over to the bedside clock to see that it’s one in the morning. She’s drenched in sweat, and she pulls the duvet off herself to try and cool down; it falls to the floor with no resistance, because she’s the only person in the bed.

_She’s the only person in the bed._

As her eyes adjust to being awake, she sees the light of the bathroom coming from under the closed door. She wants Kaito to hug her until she falls asleep again; for some reason, this dream has shaken her more than she has reason enough to conceive. It’ll all be okay once she’s in his arms again. That’s what calms her down - the safety that she feels around him, and the love in her heart that bursts through her veins.

She pushes open the bathroom door and sees him on his knees, vomiting into the toilet. He doesn’t even realise that she’s watching him as he coughs, his breath hitching in his throat. There isn’t any time for him to pretend like anything else is going on, as she puts a gentle hand on his back, and he turns around in shock.

The white light of the bathroom shines like a sick version of Heaven against the blood dripping down his chin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)

**Author's Note:**

> Title from 'You Don't Know How Lucky You Are' by Keaton Henson.


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